Ignite the Spark
by LostUmbrella
Summary: Chandra is fem!Harry, she is being dragged into the Wizarding World, and she isn't very thrilled about it.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR NOTE**

**Welcome to my new fiction everyone!**

**Just a couple of things before we start.**

**First of all, a disclaimer: I nothing relating to Harry Potter nor Magic the Gathering, except for some cards and books, but I certainly don't own the rights to any of the above. This is being written for mine and yours enjoyment, not for money.**

**With the legal stuff out of the way, let me give you a couple of info before we dive in.**

**Regarding the timeline, the story starts on the plane of Amonketh, in the middle of the fight between the Gatewatch and Nicol Bolas, right after Chandra was dealt a staggering final blow and Nissa was pleading her to run. You can find the whole fight on the Wizards of the Coast site if you're curious. I started writing this long before Ixalan came out, let alone any of the following, so I'll more than likely disregard anything pertaining Ixalan, Dominaria, Guilds of Ravinca and War of the Spark (and any other edition coming out after that). On Earth, meanwhile, is the evening of the 31th October 1994.**

**And now, let's roll!**

CHAPTER 1 – Homeward path

_Go! I'll be fine, you go!_

Those where the last words Nissa had mouthed to her before she had been dragged away. She was pretty sure they were empty assurances to get her injured ass out of there, and she had been more than ready to disregard them hadn't it been for the blasted dragging sensation oh-so-similar to planeswalking that had surged in her, taking her away from the plaza.

In a second and a burst of blue flames that only Nissa had barely noticed, Chandra Nalaar disappeared from Amonketh, her last thought being a silent prayer to any god that would hear her out to spare her friends. Self-proclaimed god-pharaohs notwithstanding, of course.

Her planeswalking was rough and undefined just like her flames, just like her. Chandra knew this very well. Yet, it was a familiar sensation she had come to enjoy and relish. Whatever had taken her from Amonketh was even rougher though, and definitely unpleasant, which went just _wonderfully_ with her cracked ribs.

Whoever had taken her from her fight and, more importantly, her friends was in for a world of pain when she arrived, that was for sure.

After a long time, far longer than any planeswalk she'd ever consciously done, the process was over and she reappeared in a blazing ball of blue flames in what looked like grand hall of some stronghold with thousands of floating candles and no roof. Even worse, there were hundreds of people staring at her like she was a curious animal.

The air was full of tension, like they were expecting her to do something. What they all could be waiting for, Chandra had no idea, nor did she care particularly.

"Ok," she said slowly breaking the utter silence of the hall and dropping in a fighting stance "I'll take a page out of Gideon's book and ask questions _before_ burning this place down. Where I am? Who are you? And more importantly, why in the blazes did you take me here?"

It was more for show than anything. Not that she couldn't burn some palace into charred and melted stones, but she was hurt and acutely aware of it.

"Are you Rose Potter?" asked an old man with a ridiculously long beard, weird clothes and holding a small scrap of what looked to be parchment.

"Never heard of the gal, now answer my blasted questions otherwise-" she replied staring at him, before ruining her tough girl image by coughing up some blood and swaying a bit.

"You are in need of medical assistance it seems, Miss," said the man waving a woman decidedly past her prime over "Let our school healer look you over, I'll answer all of your questions after that, you have my word."

Chandra, a trail of blood running down her chin, weighted her options. On one hand, she had no reason to trust this people, but on the other she decidedly needed a cleric to patch her up. She closed her hazel eyes, sighed, nodded and relaxed her stance, signalling the stern woman in white and pale blue that her help was appreciated.

"But no rendering me unconscious, you hear me?" she warned as the woman came closer and took out some pointed, wooden stick.

Ignoring the latent threat, the woman waved the stick and muttered a series of incomprehensible words, with pale white and golden lights flashing occasionally.

After a minute or so she proclaimed: "Three cracked ribs, one almost punctured a lung, plus a number of hematomas all over. Drink this and you'll be fine in a couple of hours."

That said, she handed Chandra a smallish vial full of off-green liquid, an healing potion of some kind.

Knowing full well that a punctured lung was no laughing matter, and feeling like it was the honest truth, she decided to take the potion and thrust the woman. If it turned out to be poison, she wouldn't survive her outrage. Many burned husks around the Multiverse could attest to that.

Its smell was foul, and the taste downright vile, but she immediately felt the painful sensation of her ribs moving to right themselves.

Turning her eyes on the old man that had spoken earlier she said: "Ok, time to do some talking old man."

A couple of the adults sitting at the table next to him looked pretty miffed at her tone and words, but she cared little.

"Of course my dear," jovially said the man "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I'm the headmaster of this place, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. As for why you're here, I fear it might be a bit of a longer story, Miss. May I inquire on your name?"

_A wizard school uh? Like that Tolaria place I guess,_ she mulled over _Makes sense with all the teens around._

"Name's Chandra Nalaar. You can just give me the highlights, or directly skip to why I have a feeling that planeswalking away would be a Bad idea, with a capital B."

"Very well Miss Nalaar. The short version is that someone used this artefact," he said pointing to a nearby wooden cup "To enter Rose Potter in the Triwizard Turnament and the Goblet of Fire recognized you as her, therefore summoning you here. As for planeswalking away, whatever that may be, I fear that the Goblet enforces participation from the chosen champions, preventing you from leaving."

"Ok, that's fine and dandy except that I've never even heard of this Rose Potter. Why would this blasted cup confuse me and her?"

"I might discover more on the matter if I had access to a drop of your blood," offered the elderly headmaster before hastily adding when he saw her expression darken "I can swear an oath on my life that I have no ill intent regarding your blood."

She had heard tales of the sangromancer lord of Innistrad, Sorin Markov, from Jace and Liliana and didn't like one bit the idea of giving her blood away to some stranger, but an oath was alright in her book. Even her, as chaotic as she was, respected her oaths.

She wiped her chin clean and presented her blood-smeared hand to Dumbledore.

"I want that oath though."

The headmaster whipped out his wand, a knobby piece of almost black wood, and swore his oath before levitating a single drop from her palm to him.

"A piece of parchment Minerva, if you would," he asked of one of the miffed looking adults at the table, a very old witch in clothes that the monks at the monastery would have though very conservative.

Pyromancers they might have been, but monks nonetheless.

Dumbledore levitated the droplet on the offered parchment while muttering something unintelligible before storing his wand away and reading some text that had appeared out of her blood.

"Chandra Nalaar, born Rose Potter from James and Lily Potter of Godric's Hollow, Earth, adopted by Kiran and Pia Nalaar of Ghirapur, Kaladesh. Does this sound alright to you, Miss Nalaar?" he asked passing her the parchment.

Before she could answer, an excited murmuring erupted in the hall courtesy of both students and adults.

She decided to cut them short by burning down the piece of parchment by igniting it into a small phoenix that she immediately banished.

"Are you asking if I knew of my adoption? Yes, mom told me years ago. I didn't know I was this Rose Potter you're talking about though. I guess it explains why your fancy cup choose me," she said a tad smugly at the all astonished faces gaping at her "Now, you said I'm forced to compete right? I don't have much choice then. What do I need to do?"

"Good," said the headmaster jovially indicating a door behind her "If you'd join your fellow champions, we'll give you four all the information of the case."

"Wait a minute Dumbledore!" said one of the adults getting up, a tallish man in furs that reminded Chandra of that mad shaman from Zendikar, Sarkhan Vol, "We already have three champions!"

"I'm guessing this man is opposed to my participation, right?" asked Chandra sounding bored "Am I not enforced then?"

"She has to participate," proclaimed an utterly unremarkable moustachioed man in a suit that still seemed to command some kind of authority "The Goblet is a binding magical contract. She needs an institution to represent though."

"There, problem solved!" she said in a fake cheerful tone "I'll represent the Gatewatch. It's the only thing I could somehow represent after all, the monastery burned down years ago."

That said she turned on her heel and marched through the side door, her fake smile disappearing as fast as ice under her flames.

_After all the shit in Amonketh and that joke of a battle with Bolas, I really have no patience for petty men and their politics,_ she thought sourly _I need to burn something down._

As soon as she entered the small antechamber, ignoring the three teens' looks and words, she marched to the fireplace, grabbed a chunk of dry wood and set it aflame with just a thought, before throwing it in the fire.

"Better," she muttered.

"Lady and gentlemen, may I present you Rose Potter, the fourth Triwizard champion!" boisterously proclaimed a fattish man in hideously coloured yellow robes as he stepped in.

He might have been an athlete of some kind once, observed the pyromncer, but time had been pretty bad on him. She also noticed that he was overall too damn cheerful, reminding her of that merfolk girl, Kiora.

"The name is Chandra Nalaar, none of this Potter nonsense," she replied tiredly.

She dearly wanted a bed. And something to burn to ashes. Not strictly in that order.

After some more debate, they were told that the first task of the tournament would be held on November the twenty-fourth, which told her nothing due to her being from a completely different plane, and that they had to face the unknown, which was once again remarkably useless.

Chandra decided that unless it was another of Bolas schemes, another fight with Eldrazi titans or the next Phyrexian invasion she didn't care one bit.

She then followed the stern looking woman to a private room where she took off all her clothes and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow, I honestly didn't expect this much interest in my story. Thanks guys, really.**

**As last time, I own no rights to any of this.**

CHAPTER 2 – Fated showdown

Chandra woke up the next day feeling better than she had since... Well, she wasn't sure. If she had to say, she'd wager on since meeting her mother again.

And she felt awful for it.

Her friends were who knew where in the Multiverse, hopefully alive, while she was stuck in a school enjoying a comfortable bed and silken sheets. She would be the first to admit that she and Liliana were seldom of one mind on things, especially after her betrayal of the Gatewatch, but in all honesty the necromancer was right: silk felt good on one's skin.

She tried sending a mental missive to Jace like she had done the previous evening, but received no reply. Either the mind mage was out, which was entirely possible after their encounter with Bolas, or she was too far from Ravnica or wherever he was nursing his wounds.

Speaking of wounds, the school healer had done a number on her and she felt absolutely great. If only she could leave to look for her friends...

Someone interrupted her train of thoughts by knocking at her door.

Rolling her eyes, she got up, stretched to remove a kink from her back, put on her boots and gauntlet and headed for the door.

One might object that no self respecting teenager girl would open the door in nothing but boots and one gauntlet, but they'd be forgetting that Chandra had grown up in the slums of Ghirapur first and then in a monastery. There was little place for modesty in her life, a thing that had annoyed Nissa and Gideon to no end while amusing Liliana and Jace. She smirked a little at the thought of the Akroan planeswalker and the crush she had developed for him. It all seemed so far away now... She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Rather than modesty, safety was her concern, hence the boots for easier movement and the gauntlet to amplify her spells. Moreover, her state of undress could unbalance possible attackers.

She hadn't bothered taking off her goggles, she never did. They reminded her of her dad and mom and looked cool too! No reason to _ever_ take them off.

Opening the door, she was treated to the sight of a girl around her age with bushy hair. She was gaping like a fish.

"Yes?" she asked trying to jog the girl's mind.

"You're naked!" said the girl in a shrill shriek blushing hot red and staring at her in the eyes.

"No, I'm wearing boots. Now, did you need something or did you just want to ogle me?"

"I... Professor... Can you please put on something? It's pretty distracting!"

Chandra shook her head in mirth and exasperation, grabbed the girl's harm and dragged her into her quarters and towards her bedroom. There, she had her sit on her bed while she proceeded in dressing in her usual attire and ignoring the carefully folded uniform sitting on her nightstand.

"Now," said Chandra doing nothing to hide her lingering mirth for the girl's discomfort "A name would be nice. And your reason to be here too."

"I'm Hermione Granger," dutifully answered the still somewhat shell-shocked girl "Professor McGonagall asked me to guide you to your classes."

Chandra sat next to the other girl and considered both her words, her tone and her posture. It was something Nissa had taught her: you can understand a lot about someone from how she acted and talked.

"It's nice to meet you Hermione," replied the pyromancer with a sincere smile "It's refreshing to meet someone as straightforwardly loyal to as you once in a while. You remind me of my friend Gideon. Anyway, I know it'll come as a disappointment but I'm not going to any lessons."

"What?" squeaked the witch as if she couldn't even grasp the concept of not following the lessons "But you need to! All students have to!"

_It's just too easy to wind up her kind..._

"Just like him..." mumbled the redhead patting the other's shoulder before addressing her "Tell you what, I'm interested in the local fauna. Any lessons about that?"

"There's Care of Magical Creatures, but you need to follow all your lessons or your magic won't work properly!"

"Are you for real?" asked Chandra staring at her like she had two heads "I'm a pyromancer Hermione, I create fire, I burn things. My only other ability is my planeswalking, and that cannot be taught. I can learn about what I can and cannot burn though, that's why this Care for Magical Creatures seems interesting."

"But what about Charms? Potions? Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Ok Hermione, it's obvious you think I can benefit from these lessons and I can't see you changing your mind, so I'll follow you and see, but if I think they're useless I'm out ok?"

"I guess..." accepted the witch in a somewhat unsure tone.

"Great. Now, how about some breakfast? I kinda missed all meals yesterday."

* * *

Breakfast at Hogwarts was nothing like Chandra was used to. It was lavish, excessive, wasteful even, and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

Ideally, she knew that there were people living in even more luxury than what Hogwarts displayed, she was intimately familiar with Kaladesh consuls' lifestyle after all, but thinking back to her early years she couldn't think that if food and riches were more evenly distributed everyone would be better off for sure.

_But maybe it's just my past speaking,_ she mused taking a bite out of an apple _The little thief spreading chaos and fire through Ghirapur streets. Everything was easier then. Not better, that's for sure, but at least there was no ancient dragon out to conquer the Multiverse…_

Her walk down memory lane was interrupted by an haughty voice that made Hermione stiffen at her side.

"So you are the famous Rose Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived."

Despite not having said a single derogatory word, somehow it had all sounded like an insult.

Chandra and Hermione turned around to see a sneering blonde boy flanked by two guys that just _had_ to have a troll in their ancestry. That, or a Krosan gorilla.

"I am Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and these are Crabble and Goyle," said the blonde extending his hand for a handshake "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Chandra almost laughed in his face. She succeeded in just snorting.

"Yeah no. Look, first of all, the name is Chandra Nalaar, none of this Potter nonsense," she said shaking her head at his surprised expression "Second, I know your type, full of themselves for some inane reason like their race or something similar. Nissa had a phase too. It's all utter nonsense, believe me, and the sooner you realize it, the better for everyone. Now, go away and think on it long and hard, ok?"

It took a moment for the message to breach the stupor, but when it did Draco's face morphed in an angry scowl and he stormed away, the two gorillas trailing behind him.

"I think this is the first time I saw Malfoy losing a word spar," commented Hermione smiling at the redhead "It feels good after all the times he's belittled me."

"Then I fear you're either pathetic or too easy to rile up," responded Chandra sighing "It's just words Hermione, they may hurt but they shouldn't harm you."

It felt weird being the one dispensing wisdom. She guessed it fell on her since the others weren't around to do it.

"It's not so easy... Especially if you're alone like me," replied the bushy haired witch.

"I could tell you about my life now, but I don't feel like it, so either we go to the first lesson or I go out and vent some steam," she said getting up and heading for the doors.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: As always, I own nothing.**

**Also, there's a little omake at the end of this chapter, just a silly little thing (not officially canon) my friend suggested that I **_**just**_** couldn't let go. Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 3 - Attrition

It turned out that Hermione was willing to sacrifice her breakfast to keep Chandra from skipping classes, so they went on the third floor for Transfiguration.

On the way there, the stranded pyromancer could see many animated portraits and paintings, which marvelled her to no end. It was like being back home, with dad tinkering the day away and creating weird and incredible things just to make her smile. It simply felt good to see magic and ingenuity used only to make someone happy, it was right.

Once in the classroom, Chandra guessed that ignoring the offered uniform made her stand out like a sore thumb, and that was without even considering the dust, ashes, grime and blood on her armour. She cared little anyway, but she couldn't avoid noticing the fact.

She also noticed that the students wore slightly different uniforms, with some kind of colour coding, and that nobody seemed to want to sit next to Hermione, not even those of the red group like her. The redhead simply shrugged and sat with the girl. It wasn't like she knew anyone else after all.

She didn't have to wait long for the professor, the strict looking woman from the previous evening, to arrive and start the lesson. Had she been more academically inclined, she might have found it fascinating, maybe.

While the students were trying, some more fruitfully than others, to swap the contents of two vials by waving their wands and muttering nonsensical words, the professor inquired about her uniform.

"Since I'm not a student, I have no uniform," replied Chandra tearing her eyes from some redhead's failed attempt that sent one potion under his desk and on his shoes "I'm here only because Hermione insisted it was important and I decided that checking wasn't going to hurt."

The woman looked sour at her reply, as if she had eaten something bitter. On her part, the pyromancer didn't particularly care. One learns pretty soon that people's opinion are fickle and biased anyway when in the slums of Ghirapur. Friends' opinions mattered, up to a point, but anyone else? She wasn't going to try to please every single individual she met. Also, she was simply direct like that.

"You can still try your wand at the swapping spell, Miss Nalaar. It would do you good," insisted the professor.

"Ah, that would be hard, since I don't have a wand," replied Chandra slowly, no need to actually antagonize the woman since she was only doing her job "And me being a pyromancer, practicing this particular spell would do me no actual good since there's no fire involved."

Now, people had reacted in many ways when she had introduced herself as a pyromancer: some got scared, others showed interest of various kinds, and a number of them got annoyed, particularly if they worked in the law enforcement like Baaral. But nobody had ever scoffed in her face. _Scoffed!_ As if she was no threat! Not even Nicol Bolas himself had done that!

"You find me funny?" she asked in a tone that promised hurt as her hair started floating upwards, ready to ignite.

No one dismissed Chandra Nalaar as of no consequence. No one laughed of her. No one looked down on her as no threat. No one. Not anymore.

"There is no such thing as a pyromancer," stated calmly Minerva ready to try to stare the redhead into submission like she was used to do with unruly students.

The redhead was no unruly student though. Chandra didn't even hear her words. She jumped up, hair and fists ablaze in brilliant orange flames, ready to slug the woman in front of her. Sure, torrents of fire were all around better, but being punched with burning fists was just as effective and she found it oh-so-satisfying.

"_Aresto momentum!_" said a voice that, in her enraged state, the pyromancer recognized as the headmaster's, and she was stopped mid-punch, her clenched fingers mere centimetres from the woman's face.

An instant later, she regained control of her body just as a jet of cold water doused her.

"What in the blazes?!" she demanded spluttering as the nearby people scuttled further away from her.

Nobody dared to laugh at the drenched girl.

"It seems that I came looking for you just at the right time, Miss Nalaar," jovially responded the old man while still holding his wand at the ready "Would you please follow me? We have much to discuss. You too, Minerva. Class is dismissed."

* * *

"Now that we're all comfortable, I'd like to know what happened in your class Minerva," said Dumbledore sitting behind his massive desk in a throne-like chair.

The headmaster's office was big, but still felt cramped. It was simply cluttered with an unbelievable quantity of stuff. Animated portraits visibly listening in on their conversation, bookshelves fit to burst any moment, an assortment of unknown magical items, a big ornated cabinet, a red bird on a perch, a dish full of yellow droplets, and tons of parchments. Chandra was honestly surprised the man could find anything at all in there, let alone work.

"She attacked me Albus, you saw her! And for no reason too!" explained the slightly panicked professor sitting as far away as common decency permitted from her assailant.

"No reason?" interrupted Chandra, her arms crossed on her chest in an effort to avoid getting drenched again "You laughed in my face! Pyromancers are respected in all the Multiverse if only because they can turn people into ashes!"

"There is no such things as pyromancers or multiverses!" retorted the woman.

"Now Minerva," said Albus trying to calm down both females "I'm sure that those are labels used wherever she's lived till now that have another name here. Try not to antagonize her too much, please. As for you, Miss Nalaar, I assume you know that harming one of my faculty or my students like you almost did earlier will be met with far harsher methods than earlier, is that clear?"

"Sure," said the redhead shrugging.

At least, the headmaster seemed to take her seriously, he even stopped being eternally jolly just to deliver that warning. She wasn't sure what he meant by harsher methods, and she wasn't about to try to find out, but at least that was some respect and she could accept that.

"Good, now that we have cleared this misunderstanding, we can get to the reason I was looking for you," said the old man returning to his jovial self "Since you are participating on behalf of the Gatewatch, you'll need a faculty member to act as your judge."

"Ah... Dunno about faculty since we're more of a band of guys trying to keep the planes safe, but I've been trying to contact Jace, our telepath and de facto leader, since I arrived. I fear he's still out of it after... Well, after yesterday's fight."

"I see... Anyone else you might send an owl to?"

"An owl?" asked Chandra honestly puzzled "Why would I want to send anyone a bird? We're talking of birds, right?"

"Yes, owls are birds. Don't they deliver letters for wizards where you're from? Kaladesh if I recall correctly."

"No, they use tophters in Kaladesh," she replied automatically trying to grasp the idea of delivering letter trough owls "I was using telepathy actually, for I doubt any creature can traverse the Blind Eternities."

"Blind Eternities?" asked the professor a bit hesitantly.

Chandra had almost forgotten about her, if she had to be honest. She was about to respond, for clearly these people had never heard of planeswalkers, when a voice rang in her head.

_Are you there Chandra?_

It was unmistakeably Jace's voice, even if weak and distant.

"About time!" she muttered before explaining to the other two "Jace answered me, do I need to tell him about that judge thing?"

"It would be much appreciated, yes," said Dumbledore observing her intently.

_I'm here Jace,_ she replied in her mind _Can barely hear you though._

_Sorry, you're pretty far away and I'm still weak after Bolas' attack. Are you ok? The others?_

_I'm all healed up, but the blasted dragon pulverized us. After you went down Liliana ran away, might have betrayed us to Bolas too, then I was dragged away by some guys that forced me in a tournament. Last I saw, Nissa and Gideon were still fighting._

_Woah, slow down there. Liliana betrayed us?_

_She took Bolas' deal of running and getting contacted later. Might be a bluff to save her hide though, you know how Liliana is._

_Ok, I'll talk with her later. What about forcing you in a tournament?_

Chandra explained what she had gathered since arriving at Hogwarts.

_I see,_ was Jace's only response.

Chandra really hated the mind mage when he did this cryptic answer thing. Was a clear answer too much to ask for? She sent him a mental image of her burning his cape.

_Very funny Chandra. I'll try contacting the others, and then I'll send someone. I'd come in person but I'm still too weak: __there's no decent mind healer on this backwater plane__.__ It's also some kind of planar well supposedly impossible to leave, but I'm working on it.__ Try not to get killed till then, ok?_

_Stay safe too Jace__._

And with that the link went silent.

"He said he'll send someone," was the planeswalker's only answer to the wizard's expectant face "Dunno who or when though."

"Splendid," was the man's reply.

He seemed to always be in an awfully good mood. Thanks to that, the pyromancer didn't thrust him one bit. No one was always cheerful for no apparent reason, not even Lorwyn's inhabitants, and they literally lived in a plane that was all sunshine and rainbows. It just had to be a ruse.

"Now," continued Dumbledore assuming a more relaxed position "I hope you'd indulge an old man's curiosity and explain me some of those terms you used before, could you?"

"A question first, if you would. You too professor, maybe you know something the headmaster ignores," said Chandra raising a hand to stop him "Has any of you ever heard of anybody leaving this plane, this very world, and going to another or vice versa?"

"I suppose you're not talking of ghosts here, so I'll have to say no," admitted Dumbledore while the professor only shook her head.

"No, ghosts and undeads are up Liliana's alley. I'm talking about whole other words, with humans and countless other races thriving on them," she explained with a faraway look "Kaladesh is one such world, so very different from this one from what I've seen."

"Fascinating," breathed Dumbledore in awe with the idea.

His words snapped Chandra back to reality. She glanced at her audience and said: "It's obvious you've got no idea of how things actually are out there, across the Blind Eternities, but this is a school, right? A place where you learn things? Then I'll teach, you and whoever else might be interested. In exchange I'll follow only those lessons I think might be interesting, is that acceptable?"

"We have a deal, Miss Nalaar."

"Great!"

"Dumbledore!" said one of the portraits, a stately man with grey curly hair, looking alarmed "There are a woman and a weird creature at the gate claiming to be here on one Chandra Nalaar's behalf!"

"Let me guess," interjected said girl getting up "Tall, leonine looking, covered in white fur with a big, golden axe-thingie?"

"Yes," said the scared painting "What in Merlin's name is that thing?"

"That's not a thing, he's old man Ajani."

* * *

OMAKE - Planar chaos

"You shouldn't be here."

It was far from the first time Chandra had been addressed with such words, but since coming to Hogwarts it had been a first. It was almost like everyone had accepted her presence as something natural, to be expected, and therefore felt she was exactly where she was meant to be. Everyone except the unknown speaker, that is.

The pyromancer stopped eating and turned around to see a Gryffindor student possibly younger than her, a short bespectacled boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes, staring at her with a cross between jealousy and loathing.

"As much as I'd like to leave, I'm forced to participate in this tournament of yours," replied the redhead holding the unfamiliar student's gaze "So while it's true that I shouldn't be here, I cannot be anywhere else."

"It should be me in the tournament! I'm the main character!" whined the boy pointing to the familiar lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Chandra narrowed her eyes. Nobody should have known of her scar, she always hid it under her goggles, at least not on that plane.

"Who are you?" she asked narrowing her eyes.

"I'm Daniel Rad- I mean, Harry Potter!" claimed the boy before pointing at her and adding "And you're stealing my role in this story!"

Chandra blinked. Was he a relative? But then what was he talking about? What story?

As she often did when confused on the finer points of a discussion she turned towards the smartest person she had at hand, who was Hermione in the specific case.

"Don't look at me, I've never seen him before," stated said girl shaking her head.

"Don't lie 'Mione, we're the best of friends! You're practically the sister I never had!" insisted the boy gesturing wildly between the two of them "Last year we used your timeturner to save my godfather, remember?"

"No, and I don't have a timeturner," replied Hermione in an exasperated tone "Whatever that is."

Chandra started to wonder if Daniel -or was it Harry?- was completely sound of mind.

"Look kid," said the pyromancer cutting his latest attempt at jogging Hermione's memory "She doesn't know what you're talking about, nor do I for that matter, and as I said earlier I'm stuck in the tournament, so unless you have something intelligent to say you should leave."

The "before I lose my patience and turn you into cinders" went unsaid, but many of the closer students heard it loud and clear and, after the episode with McGonagall, scooted away from the volatile girl.

"But if you don't go away the production won't pay my astronomical paychecks!" He whined stomping a foot "How will I keep my costly lifestyle?"

It was then that an unknown redhead came into The Scene and grabbed Daniel by the arm. Whoever it was though, Hermione went rigid at his appearance so Chandra guessed he was bad news.

"Come on Daniel, we've gotta go," said the unnamed redhead trying to drag the other boy away "I'm sure we'll find some other story for you to star in, ok mate?"

"Don't wanna!" whined Daniel even as he followed the other boy "I'm the real Harry Potter! Not her!"

"Yes yes, now come this bloody way!" grunted the other before turning towards Chandra, winking and adding "See you in some chapters ladies!"

And with that, they exited The Scene, leaving behind a thoroughly confused pair of girls.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Still don't own a thing.**

**Also, to commenter crispi1: I'm not going to confirm or deny the involvement of any more planswalkers in the near or far future, because I despise spoilers. That said, yeah, I agree that the three of them would be pretty interesting in particular.**

CHAPTER 4 – Timely reinforcements

It didn't take long to get from Dumbledore's office to the front gate, where a small group of students from all three schools were standing, looking at the two figures behind it.

The first was the expected leonid: a tall humanoid figure missing his left eye, with visible feline features, white fur and a platinum blonde mane, clothed with green sashes over a leather and golden armour that looked more ornamental than useful, and the too small white cape of Elspeth draped over a shoulder. He was holding a pole weapon with two half circular heads, one golden and one silvery, propped against his left shoulder. He looked stoic like he often did when not engaging in combat.

The other figure, while decidedly less visible next to the towering leonid, wasn't certainly any less notable: a raven haired woman wearing a golden tiara and a very low cut purple dress that showed both lots of cleavage and her porcelain skin. She looked around with a bored, haughty expression.

If meeting again Ajani after they had fought side by side to free Kaladesh was a nice surprise, Chandra hadn't expected to see Liliana again so soon. Or at all.

Unfortunately for the necromancer, the redhead had a bit of repressed anger to let out.

"You!" shouted Chandra as soon as her eyes met Liliana's "Traitor!"

The transition from calm to blazing hair and fireball flying the woman's way was instantaneous. Ajani's response was just as fast, as he placed his weapon in the fireball way, protecting the necromancer.

"Well met Little Flame," said the leonid in a gruff but warm tone using his moniker for her, completely ignoring the previous attack "Would it be possible to have the gate opened? It's quite a bit chilly out here."

"What's that traitor doing here?" demanded the pyromancer, a hand held up to stop Dumbledore from drenching her again.

"I took the Bolas' offered out from a fight we would have lost anyway," replied Liliana in a calm, cultured tone "I never planned on serving him. Liliana Vess bows to no one, not to demons and certainly not to that overgrown lizard."

Chandra held her fellow planeswalker's gaze for a long minute before nodding and extinguishing her flames.

"Fine," she said "If Jace trusts you I'll follow his lead. But I'm keeping an eye on you."

"Is everything all right, Miss Nalaar?" asked the headmaster deciding that it was ok to speak up.

"Yes headmaster, just a misunderstanding. Those are two of my companions: Ajani Goldmane and Liliana Vess," replied the pyromancer before turning towards the leonid "I guess Jace sent you?"

Dumbledore nodded and willed the gates open.

"That he did," confirmed Ajani getting closer, his weapon held in a nonthreatening manner "He told me you got yourself stuck in a tournament and need representation within the judges."

"Am I to deduce you'll be Miss Nalaar's judge, ?" inquired Dumbledore in a genial tone.

"That I'll be," said the imposing planeswalker nodding "I'll try to be impartial."

"Good. Will you be needing separate accommodations or simply adding two extra rooms to Miss Nalaar's quarters will suffice?"

* * *

As soon as the door had closed behind their backs, Chandra zeroed her burning gaze on Liliana and asked: "What are you doing here? I just needed one judge."

"Relax Chandra, Jace thought it would be safer for both of us with me being here," replied the raven haired woman.

"Safer?"

"The wards on the castle prevents planeswalking directly in, which would help protecting Liliana from Bolas' clutches when he comes knocking," explained Ajani sitting down close to the fire "And having her on hand if things go sour might save our lives. Jace doesn't trust the headmaster one bit. Also, we can keep an eye on her."

"Your faith in me is simply startling dear," commented Liliana in a huff draping herself on the other couch before turning to Chandra "Speaking of keeping an eye, why would someone trap you in anything, let alone some kind of magic contest?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," admitted the pyromancer leaning against a wall "It seems that they didn't want me but a certain Rose Potter, which was incidentally my birth name before being adopted on Kaladesh. Also, some weird guy said I was famous and called me some hyphenated title, the Girl-Who-Lived."

Both the other planeswalkers assumed a pensive expression at that.

"I guess that hoping you'd know anything else on the matter is foolish, right?" asked Liliana shaking her head "I'll ask around tomorrow."

"There are ghosts in the school if you find relating with the living a chore," snipped Chandra.

"I'll look in the library, you ask the faculty Chandra," said Ajani getting up then stopped when he noticed the other two's disbelieving stares "What? I don't like it either, but we all know that we'll have no library the other way round."

"That's true," admitted the pyromancer "I don't have the best track record when it comes to libraries and archives... But maybe it's best if I talk with the students and Liliana with the faculty and ghosts. I already have an inlay with a girl."

"Very well, ghosts are more affable than brats anyway," shrugged the necromancer "On a side note, I need to get a couch like this one for my manor, it's pretty comfortable."

* * *

Lunch turned out to be an interesting affair. Since around an hour had passed after the newcomers' arrival, the whole school had now heard about the "humanoid, talking lion" and had turned up to see it. Said leonid was less than amused.

"I take it my kind isn't native of this plane?" asked Ajani ignoring the stares while he continued to eat his meat-based lunch with his hands.

Refined he might be, but nobody on Naya had taught him etiquette. Not that anybody on Naya cared about table manners.

"Nope," trilled the little blonde girl sitting on his left while petting and stroking his tail.

Chandra would have laughed at the scene if she hadn't been occupied listening as Hermione rattled off facts, hypothesis and trivia about the Girl-Who-Lived legend. Liliana had no such reservations.

"Can you please leave my tail be, little girl?" asked Ajani, not really hoping it to work.

"Nope," trilled again the girl in an airy tone "It's remarkably fluffy. I'd be willing to trade for your mane though, it looks even fluffier."

"I dreaded so."

"Miss Nalaar?" asked the stern professor from the morning to get the pyromancer's attention "I wanted to ask you to stop by my office before dinner to schedule your lectures."

With her message said, she departed not waiting for a reply.

"Lectures?" wondered both Hermione and Liliana, though the second sounded decidedly more sceptical.

"Yes, I agreed to teach whoever's interested about the Multiverse and planeswalkers," explained Chandra ignoring the woman's tone "It turns out they never heard of other planes."

"You're kidding right?" asked Liliana raising a delicate eyebrow "You're the furthest thing from an educator that I can think of, short of employing an undead. You have no patience, are terribly short-tempered and more than a bit ignorant on the finer details of the subject."

"Professor Binns was a ghost," chimed in the blonde stroking Ajani's tail "Dreadfully boring and fascinating at the same time. He retired last year (1)."

"And professor Snape is very biased, unfair and vindictive," added Hermione in a pensive tone.

The necromancer stared at both girls for a long moment before turning to Chandra and saying: "Carry on dear, you'll fit in absolutely well with the faculty."

* * *

"They want me for what?" asked a barely awake Chandra staring at Hermione from her quarters doorway.

Of course, just like the day before, she had forgone all clothing except her boots and gauntlet.

"Weighting of the wands," replied the other girl mechanically "Do you really always open the door dressed like that?"

"Only if I was sleeping. Be thankful it was me and not Liliana doing it. Now, what in the blazes is a weighting of the wands?"

"I'm not actually sure, but it's official tournament business so you and are required to attend."

"Fine, let me get dressed," sighed Chandra in defeat before turning around and shouting "Wake up Ajani, you have judge-y stuff to do!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, both Chandra and Ajani entered the smallish room they had been guided to by Hermione, who in turn was now standing around awkwardly, unsure what to do.

As soon as the pyromancer came into view, an older looking blond woman wearing acid green clothes and the singularly most horrible pair of glasses Chandra had ever seen came rushing towards her and said: "Miss Potter, it's a pleasure meeting you at last! I'm Rita Skeeter, a reporter. Would you kindly answer some questions?"

That said, and without waiting a reply, she grabbed the bewildered redhead's arm and dragged her towards a corner of the room.

"Now Rose, can I call you Rose? Of course I can," rapidly said Rita taking out a notebook and a flamboyant quill "There has been much speculation on your whereabouts in the last thirteen years, where have you been? And who murdered your foster family?"

"Wait wait wait," said the planeswalker raising a hand "First, I go by Chandra Nalaar so no, you most definitely cannot call me Rose. And second, my mom is very well and unmurdered, thank you very much. I saw her no later than last month."

"But how? The Dursleys' bodies have been identified after that huge fire."

Chandra felt that her confusion could only grow.

"What are you even talking about?"

Rita looked ready to demand more answers when Ajani's paw-hand closed on the quill that had kept writing even while nobody talked, crushing it.

"The interview is finished Miss Skeeter," he announced in a tone that promised retribution "Chandra's life has been hard, I'm sure she doesn't feel like recounting it."

The leonid then motioned with his head towards a table where the other champions and judges had assembled. Both planeswalkers moved to their expected places and the ceremony started.

It consisted in an old man looking at the champions' wands and trying them to see if they worked properly. This, of course, rapidly proved to be a problem as the man demanded Chandra's wand after deeming the blonde champion's in working condition.

"I have no wand," she simply replied, causing a fair share of surprised reactions.

"Preposterous!" protested the Sarkhan Vol lookalike that seemed to be completely against her participation "Are you trying to tell that you, a fourteen years old witch with no formal schooling, are so adept at wandless magic that you carry no wand?"

"Calm down Igor, please," intervened Dumbledore "It's obvious that where Miss Nalaar grew up, wands aren't in use. Do you perhaps use any other kind of focus?"

"No, I channel magic by will alone," explained the pyromancer shrugging "Well, will and a fair amount of emotion, plus my gauntlet helps with stability."

"Remarkable," commented the huge woman sitting with the judges, sincere admiration in her tone.

"I'll believe it when I'll see it!" said the Sarkhan Vol lookalike with a bark of derisive laughter.

Chandra nodded and created a smallish fireball in her right hand. She then proceeded to juggle with it. It was really nothing, a parlor trick. She seriously doubted such a thing could even bring down one of Liliana's minions, and she wasn't thinking of the massive, sturdy necromantic constructs but the common garden zombies she used as rank and file. And yet, judging by the assembly's astonished faces, it was some grand feat of magic. She idly wondered what they'd do when she brought out the bigger, flashier spells.

_Now that I think about this, I don't exactly know what they expect of me in this tournament... Better see if Hermione knows later._

The rest of the ceremony went smoothly after her magic was deemed fine. The only other hiccup came when the Skeeter woman insisted on taking photos of the champions for her article and tried her best to place Chandra in the center of every single one of them, while her photographer did his best to focus on the other female champion. Ajani simply watched on the scene from a corner and chuckled.

* * *

It turns out that, as with everything that was inherent to that plane, Hermione was a well of knowledge. Chandra was ready to swear that she knew vedalken artificers that would kill for a memory like hers, while Liliana made a grim remark about keeping her well away from a necroalchemist named Ludevic. The bushy haired witch, after recovering from the necromancer's disturbing comment and subsequent explanation, told them that the Triwizard tournament was a contest that pitted gifted youths against magical creatures, hazardous conditions and, oftentimes, each other in three tasks designed to test magic as much as intellect and bravery, and that could very well result in the loss of lives. Or rather, it most often than not resulted in at least one champion turning up dead or as well as, and that was why it had been discontinued in the first place. To Chandra and Liliana, those sounded a bit too close to the trials of Amonketh gods for comfort, but Hermione assured them that any task in that particular tournament should have been at lowered difficulty because "nobody wants to see you four dead."

"I'd like to disagree," said the necromancer in a far too jolly tone "The Multiverse is full of people that want Chandra Nalaar's head on a silver platter."

"Apparently even on planes I've never even heard of... " bitterly grumbled said pyromancer.

**Notes: 1. Regarding Binns, it will all be explained later on, I promise, just bear with the apparent incongruences until then.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: still own nothing, and still grateful for your support.**

CHAPTER 5 - Lawbringer

"Oh, you've got to hear this: Rose Potter, the returned Girl-Who-Lived, not only has changed her name in _Charda Nadaar_, but she is also delusional regarding her deceased foster mother, showing thus signs of _mental instability_, and has also been seen in the company of an ambiguous woman who's _clearly_ a dark witch and a dangerous beast _obviously_ fruit of some dark ritual," read Liliana between laughs from the morning paper as they all sat at breakfast the day following her sort-of-interview "Who would be so gullible to believe this trash? There's not a shred of proof!"

"They still got you down to a t there," commented Chandra sharing her companion's mirth.

"Better be careful," warned Hermione buttering a toast "Many people in the wizarding world take the _Prophet_ articles as undeniable truth."

"And what could they do?" dared the necromancer shaking her head "Assault the castle to burn me at the stake? Please Hermione. You're a smart girl, you shouldn't care what the sheep think."

"Better be careful anyway Liliana," cautioned Ajani once again ignoring both the stares and Luna brushing his tail "Even sheep can kill a wolf if in large enough numbers."

"You're starting to sound like _that_ uncouth barbarian, Ajani, see that you don't end up like him too," said the raven haired woman waving his concerns away.

"And whose fault is it that Garruk started hunting planeswalkers?" wondered out loud Chandra.

Whatever witty retort Liliana might had come up with was drowned by the Hall doors banging open as a group of crimson robed individuals filed in, wands drawn and at the ready.

"I received a substantial number of notices of a dark witch and a dark creature hiding in your castle, Dumbledore," thundered the squat, monocle-wearing witch at the head of the obviously military group "Care to explain?"

"For real?" Liliana's voice cut the silence like a hot knife does butter "Does these people really send guards after people they read of in the papers?"

"I guess that kind of explains everything, doesn't it Madam Bones?" said Dumbledore after a moment more of shocked silence "A mistake blown out of proportion."

"What in Merlin's name is that thing?" exclaimed one of the crimson robed individuals, a middle aged man, pointing his wand at Ajani.

"I'm a leonid good sir, and most certainly not a thing," was the planeswalker's even reply.

Thankfully, he had stopped munching on bacon, or his glinting fangs would have certainly ruined the nonthreatening image he was trying to project.

"Why don't we all calm down now? I'm sure that Miss Nalaar and her companions will be more than happy to answer your questions if we keep this civil," proposed Dumbledore with a steel in his voice that belied his age.

"Wands down, you too Dawlish," barked Madam Bones before adding "I'll question you three in a nearby unused classroom, please follow me."

And with that she turned on her heel and marched right out.

"Let's get this over with," said Chandra getting up with a sigh "Please Liliana, try to be a bit less, well, yourself, ok?"

* * *

The room, like many other similar unused classrooms, was dusty and cluttered with desks and chairs in various states of disrepair. The three planeswalkers found Madam Bones sitting at a strangely new desk with an open notebook in front of her. A group of five wizards and witches stood behind her in relaxed stances.

"Please, sit down," she said motioning to three new looking chairs in front of her "The sooner we start the sooner I can get back to doing my job. Your complete names for the transcript?"

"Chandra Nalaar, Liliana Vess and Ajani Goldmane," replied the leonid sitting in the central seat "Do we stand accused of something?"

They had agreed on letting him do the talk since he was the more level headed of the group.

"More than likely no, but checking will hurt nobody. Which one of you is Rose Potter?"

"Me," said Chandra sighing.

She'd first heard her name only three days prior and she already hated it.

"I'll start with you then," said Madam Bones "I doubt it, but can you shed some clarity on your foster family's murder? I'm talking of the arson that killed the entire Dursley family around thirteen years ago?"

"As I said that reporter, I cannot say I've ever heard that name or of that event."

"What about seeing your foster mother alive? One Petunia Dursley."

"Never heard of the woman, my mom's name is Pia Nalaar."

"I see, a simple misunderstanding," surmised Madam Bones humming "Please don't be offended by my next question, but is it possible that this Pia Nalaar killed your family and kidnapped you?"

"Whatever for?" asked Ajani noticing the pyromancer's discomfort "Even if Chandra's mother could have reached this plane, and she most certainly can't, what would she gain from such an act?"

"Miss Nalaar is very famous," pointed out one of the standing wizards, a tall, balding, black skinned man.

"Here maybe, but on Kaladesh? Nobody knows Rose Potter there, she's just another girl, nothing more."

"What do you mean by this plane? And where exactly is this Kaladesh place?" asked Madam Bones reigning the discussion back to topic.

"That would require quite the explanation," said Liliana shaking her head "Essentially, Kaladesh is one of the innumerable planes composing the Multiverse, just like this one. Chandra's going to hold a lesson on the matter in two days if you wish for a more comprehensive explanation."

Despite the snickers from the man called Dawlish, Madam Bones simply nodded and said: "I'll send someone more qualified than me to this lesson of yours. You might need to answer some of his questions. Now, let's see about you, . What can you tell me of your origins?"

"If you're inquiring on where I ail from, then I'm native of the Naya region of the plane of Alara. If you're asking if I'm some kind of deranged experiment like your paper suggests, then no. I'm simply a leonid, a race of sentient, humanoid lions native of many planes of the Multiverse."

"A new specie then? I'll pass this to the Regulation of Magical Creatures then. Are you by any chance willing to submit a memory as proof? It would speed things along considerably."

A short time and a retrieved memory later, Madam Bones turned to Liliana: "And finally our last misunderstanding. I guess you're from another plane too, Miss Vess?"

The necromancer offered a curt nod "Dominaria originally, but I reside on Innistrad."

"And regarding the accusations of you being a dark witch?"

"I've done nothing to give such an idea since my arrival. Actually, I studied as a healer."

Chandra was amazed at Liliana's ability to answer only the truth and yet to tell the story of a person so similar and yet so very different from her own. She had been an healer, true, but she tended to poison her patients; she also conveniently forgot to tell that Innistrad was ruled by a vampire sangromancer, that the populace had worse problems than a _relatively_ tame necromancer while Nephalia was full of enthusiastic necroalchemists and their deranged creations, or that her tiara had been taken from the corpse of an _angel_ her servants had slain for her.

"What about that artefact on your belt?" asked a shortish young woman with a heart shaped face and anonymous brown hair "It positively reeks of dark magic."

At that, Liliana paused. Chandra guessed it either was because she didn't have a rehearsed half-truth on the Chain Veil, which was doubtful knowing her, or she simply was surprised for some reason. The pyromancer wasn't actually sure about the artefact herself, knowing only that it amplified Liliana's powers much like her gauntlet but on larger scale and had a far steeper price than being heavy.

"Indeed it does," cautiously said the necromancer "I sincerely doubt I've ever met anything as... Corrupted as this object in my travels. It amplifies my magic by draining my life force."

Chandra was pretty sure it was only part of the truth and it already sounded awful, even for planeswalkers like them who had unnaturally long lives. She was more than happy for her cumbersome gauntlet if that was the alternative.

Madam Bones seemed to share her view on the subject: "That's a pretty high price to pay for anything, Miss Vess. And it also makes it a really dangerous item. I cannot arrest any of you without a valid reason so I won't, but I fear I might have to confiscate the dark artefact."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The standing guardsmen tensed, exactly like Ajani, Chandra and Madam Bones. The only one that seemed to keep her calm demeanor was Liliana herself, but the ever so subtle scent of darkness and decay was an unmistakable sign of her real state of mind.

_I'm so jumping out of here if I as much as see a single purple spark,_ thought Chandra remembering very well what her fellow planeswalker's magic did to living things.

Death magic didn't mix well with one's wellbeing unless they were the caster, and sometimes not even then.

"I'm not inclined to part with the only memento of my late brother," said the necromancer sounding and looking the epitome of calm but making the latent threat absolutely obvious "It would most assuredly also kill me."

Chandra had never heard of Liliana's brother, not that the raven haired woman was that open with her past to begin with, but she was pretty sure he had little to do with the Veil. At the very best, the necromancer had sacrificed him to obtain the cursed thing.

"If it is a family heirloom, it changes things," said Madam Bones in a placating manner "Our laws protect those more than I'm comfortable with, but I have to upheld the law and not my beliefs. I think we're finished here then, have a good day."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I still haven't gained any rights over Harry Potter or MTG. You'll be the first to know once I do, promise.**

CHAPTER 6 – Mystical teachings

Chandra stared at the assembled people sitting in front of her, waiting patiently for the first lesson on "Multiverse Lore" to begin, and felt a bead of sweat roll down her brows.

She hadn't deluded herself in attracting much attention: maybe one or two bored students, a small group of overachievers, a couple of curious professors and the expert Madam Bones had promised. So, she was understandably shocked to see the majority of the students from all three schools and all of their professors in attendance.

Chandra Nalaar was many things, but a speaker wasn't one of them, so she was very nervous.

"Well, looks like they have no idea of how much of an awful teacher you actually are," muttered Liliana, a mischievous expression on her face "Fortunately you're used to talking to large gatherings of people. Oh wait, you're terrible at it."

She had accepted to act as guest lecturer and explain any of the more detailed parts of the theories on planeswalking and the structure of the Multiverse to those who asked, but was enjoying herself entirely too much at the pyromancer's discomfort.

"Thanks Liliana, very helpful. Now, let me do my work," replied Chandra scowling.

She stepped up to the edge of the platform they were standing on and schooled herself.

_Calm down Chandra, mom and Gideon talk to large audiences all the time, it cannot be that difficult._

"Er... Hello?" she said and cringed at how it sounded.

_Smooth Chandra, very smooth._

"Welcome to this first lesson, I'm happy to see you this numerous. For those of you who still don't know, I'm Chandra Nalaar and I'm going to explain you the concepts of Multiverse and planeswalking with the help from my _assistant_ Liliana Vess."

She felt a bit vindicated when her hears caught the necromancer's unhappy grumblings.

"Let's start from the beginning. From what I've gathered it's diffused opinion in this plane that your so called universe is the only one. Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble but it's wrong. I've personally been to at least six different planes in my life."

A bout of murmuring erupted in the audience. It seemed that the only two not actively involved in a conversation were Dumbledore and a figure with a hood masking its features that Chandra assumed being the expert from the law enforcement.

"The idea behind the Multiverse is actually pretty simple to visualize," continued Chandra gaining back the people's attention "Imagine a chalice full of soapy water. You could see a great number of bubbles of different sizes on the surface, right? Well, each bubble is a plane, a world like this one and yet very different at the same time, while the water is what separates a plane from the others, the vast emptiness called the Blind Eternities."

A hand shot up from the sea of people, owned by a familiar bushy haired girl very eager to ask a question. Chandra motioned for her to stand up and speak.

"Bubbles in water move and they can touch or burst. Can planes do the same?" asked Hermione in a worried tone.

"Ok, so maybe soapy water wasn't the best metaphor for the case. No, planes cannot spontaneously cease to exist unless the very magic sustaining them disappears, nor they can touch or collide. I'm not aware of the planes moving at all actually, Liliana?"

"The Blind Eternities are immutable and cannot be influenced," replied the necromancer pensively "The only planes I've ever heard of touching were the Shards of Alara, and they actually were a single plane to begin with, trying to reunite."

"What are this Blind Eternities you speak of?" asked the hooded man in a calm tone.

"They're nothingness, plain and simple. Any common concept, like time or space, ceases to have meaning in them," was Liliana's answer as she got up and stood next to Chandra "Imagine an abyss so deep and wide that words fail to describe. That's the closest thing to the Eternities, vast and empty. Very little is actually known on them, I fear that only Karn really knows anything on the subject. Or aetherborns, as they seem to have a link to the Eternities somehow..."

"Karn?" asked the man obviously hoping to discover more.

"This brings us to the second subject of the lesson: planeswalkers," announced Chandra taking back the spotlight "From what you've heard till now, both me and Liliana come from one of this other planes, so you might be wondering if others might come or, the other way round, you could visit another plane. The answer is most likely no to both questions."

Shouts of protest rose from the students, especially the younger who were surely imagining adventures in far away words. It lasted some minutes before Chandra created a gout of flames that morphed into a draconic head and roared.

"Sorry for the scare and the let down, please let me finish. As I was trying to say, not everyone's mind and body can face the Blind Eternities and emerge unscathed. Many have tried, all of them have failed and died an horrible death. Only the planeswalkers can actually cross them, all because of what's commonly defined the Spark, the ability to see and walk the pathways in the Eternities. So no, without the Spark you cannot leave this plane, nor can anyone come from outside."

"May I inquire on how many planeswalkers are there?" asked Dumbledore clearly curious.

Chandra shrugged and turned to Liliana.

"There's no census of our kind," answered the woman "I personally know of no more than twenty planeswalkers, including legendary and dead figures like Urza and some that are only believed to be dead like Feralyse."

"Karn, the one we've previously cited, is one of the older planeswalkers surely alive, and the only artificial one," explained Chandra "He is a silver golem, created centuries ago by Urza. He's the maximum expert on anything related to planeswalking, but unfortunately he was being kept prisoner deep in the core on New Phyrexia last I heard of him."

"We're getting out of subject here," warned Liliana, knowing full well what a hornet nest Phyrexia was "And I already see the questions piling up in their minds."

"Back on track then. Anyway, other than the Spark, planeswalkers are very long lived for their races, but that's that. Usually planeswalkers are wizards of some specialization or the other, but no more threatening than any other member of their race."

"You said that this Karn was created, is it thus possible to replicate this Spark and give it to others?" questioned the hooded man.

Chandra and Liliana exchanged a look and let the moment drag on before the redhead answered slowly: "Theoretically speaking it could still be possible, but with Karn in the hands of the phyrexians and the only two planeswalkers powerful enough to do it opposed to them I'd say it's definitely impossible."

"Urza could do it because he did it before what's referred as the Great Mending. Planeswalkers were much more powerful then," picked up Liliana "They were essentially gods then, but their presence unbalanced the Multiverse and the Mending was its answer."

"So no, creating artificially the Spark is pretty much impossible as of now," concluded Chandra with a sullen expression "I'm sorry to let you all down."

"I have a question," arrogantly said the blonde boy from some days prior, Malfoy, getting up "Why should we believe any of this? Where's proof?"

Murmuring broke out again in the all. Chandra noticed that some of the professors were scowling at the blonde, while others like many students were looking at her expectantly.

"Well, that's a really hard question..." she said staring at Malfoy "You could take our word for granted, of course, but I can't see it being very likely. I could ask my friend to send over someone so alien in appearance that you couldn't deny the existence of other worlds, but it would require quite a bit of time and if Ajani hasn't convinced you I sincerely doubt anyone else could. What to do?"

"Ah, I think I can provide a solution, Miss Nalaar," said the headmaster standing up too, a jovial smile on his face "A memory of some of the places you've seen would assuage any doubt. We can project them with my pensive."

"I'm seriously disturbed by how much that man smiles..." muttered Liliana, but it went unheard by anyone except her fellow planeswalker.

Chandra nodded, both at the necromancer's statement and at Dumbledore's proposal, and moments later he was on the platform with her extracting a memory. His pet phoenix had meanwhile arrived, bringing a carved stone bowl.

She stopped the man moments before he played the memory to warn the audience: "I choose something iconic, so that I'm sure you'll believe it's nowhere on this plane. A word of caution though, you might find some parts of this memory disturbing. I won't think less of anyone that wishes to leave now and they'd be welcome back next time. I surely would have lived better without seeing some of that."

Whether due to peer pressure or simple curiosity sparked by her words, no one moved, not even the younger years she had hoped to scare off. She sighed and signalled to Dumbledore to start.

Immediately, a breathtaking image of a lush landscape appeared in mid-air above the bowl. An ancient forest filling a vale enclosed between a high mountain range of dark brown rocks and a plateau where Chandra herself stood with a hooded figure in blue clothes, a stout man in white armour and a woman in a green dress that showed lots of pale, tattooed skin.

Many sounds of awe came from the audience as the stared with rapt fascination at the image.

"What's so disturbing in this?" asked Malfoy sneering.

Before anyone could say anything, the armoured man pointed to the right side and both the four figures and the image turned, and everybody understood what Chandra had meant: standing slightly behind the mountains was a creature so tall that it towered over the range, making the four figures look insignificant in its presence; it had a vaguely humanoid figure, in the sense that it had a head, arms and a torso, but in place of legs it had a writhing mass of red tentacles that turned to dust anything they touched, from its elbows extended four dark blue forearm that ended in as many hands with pierced palms, and its bone white face was devoid of any features or orifices save for two tusk-like protrusions.

As shrieks of horror came from the younger students, the redhead was only thankful that she had chosen to cut it shortly after the Eldrazi's arrival, sparing the audience the inhuman sounds that Ulamog could produce and the absolute devastation it had wreaked.

She patiently waited for the professors to calm down the students before speaking up: "I'll speak of Zendikar and the Eldrazi in another lesson, but be assured that Ulamog and its kind have been imprisoned and have no chance of escaping."

The "again" went unsaid. Neither her nor Liliana felt the need to add it.

"Well, I think this concludes our first lesson," she said to her shell-shocked audience clasping her hands in front of her.

* * *

_Really Chandra?_ asked Jace in her mind sounding less than pleased _Was subjecting young and impressionable minds to the horror that is Ulamog really necessary?_

It was shortly after the lesson and the mind mage had contacted her to have an update on the situation. The idea of teaching about other planes had positively impressed him, her concept of "undeniable proof" not so much.

_Come on Jace, we've both seen worse than that thing just standing around doing nothing. It was relatively tame._

The mind mage's silence was an answer on its own.

_Anyway, I'd like to have a chat with the headmaster,_ eventually said Jace changing topic _He's hiding something, I'm sure. __Unfortunately, I__'m still stuck on Ixalan__._

_So I need to act as a messenger tophter between you two? _wondered Chandra, not liking the idea one bit.

_No, you'll meet with him, talk, and get as much out of him as you can._

If possible, Chandra liked this option even less.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Nope, looks like I still don't own rights to either Harry Potter nor MTG.**

CHAPTER 7 - Painful truths

"Ah, Miss Nalaar, what can I do for you this fine morning?" said Dumbledore as she entered his office the day following her lesson.

"Good morning headmaster, I was hoping we could have a small chat," replied Chandra using the carefully rehearsed phrase Jace had instructed her.

"That might be in order. I have here a report from Madam Pomfrey asking for more dreamless sleep potion. It seems your lesson was impressive in more than one way."

The man's tone might have been jovial, but there was a hint of reproach in his voice.

"Believe me when I say I could have shown them horrors so unspeakable that they'd be scarred for life. I know I am," she said slumping a bit "For what it counts, I'm sorry I caused so much pain and I promise no future lesson will be this bad."

"I see you're not enjoying the suffering you sowed, so this time I'll let it slide. Now, what is it that you wished to discuss?"

"Actually, it was my past as Rose Potter. I've heard a great many things, and many mentioned you in some capacity, so I thought to nip the thing in the bud."

"Ah, Hogwarts rumor mill is still incredible after so many years..." commented Dumbledore stroking his beard, apparently gathering his thoughts "Let's start at the beginning then. I'm sure you've heard of a dark wizard referred as You-Know-Who, or Voldemort, by now, right? He was terrorizing wizarding Britain in an attempt to overthrow the Ministry of Magic and take over. Dark times, especially so soon after the horrors of World War II and Grindelwald's reign of terror. You were born in such times, bringing joy at least to your family, despite their place high on Voldemort's hit list."

"Why would my family be of such importance?" interrupted Chandra, sensing a loose tread in the story.

"Voldemort rallied the blood purists under his flag, even if I believe it wasn't his personal creed. To satisfy them, he targeted those deemed of impure blood, especially those in high profile positions or that had been exceptional in school. Your mother, Lily Evans, was all three of those things: muggleborn, highly intelligent and skilled, and a spell researcher married to an auror captain, James Potter."

"I see, please continue," said Chandra even if she felt that the man wasn't being completely honest.

The headmaster nodded and started back where he had left off: "After your birth, you became a priority to your parents, so they left the fight and went into hiding. I used a powerful secrecy ward to hide them, but the secret was revealed to Voldemort and he attacked your family on Halloween night of thirteen years ago. He killed your parents, but when he turned his wand on you, the spell somehow bounced back, leaving you only a scar and killing him. You've been hailed as saviour of the wizarding world ever since with the moniker of Girl-Who-Lived."

"Wait," said Chandra raising a hand to stop him, a frown marring her face "That's it? How in the blazes does a powerful wizard like this Voldemort guy gets his spell reflected by an infant? I know a couple of spells to do it _now_, but thirteen years ago..."

It seemed that, despite the heavy topic, the man was enjoying the conversation a lot.

"That's a question that has plagued many experts for years and still does. I personally believe that your mother used her own sacrifice to cast a powerful ritualistic shield spell on you, but I admit it's only speculation on my part."

"Ok, let's say you're right. What about Voldemort? Just a spell and he's dead? Either it was something massive or he was actually pretty weak, no spell is that powerful."

"I'd have to dissent: the killing curse is infamous for doing just that. One hit and the target dies, with you being the only exception."

"A spell that kills instantly and with no drawbacks or conditions?" she asked a bit preoccupied.

She knew of such spells, the upper echelons of death magic, especially if molded with its opposite, life magic. It was rumored Sorin could use those, as could the exceedingly powerful Karn, Ugin and Nicol Bolas, but they were all millennia-old experts of their respective fields. Death mages had somewhat of an easier time in casting killing spells, but they usually faced drastic drawbacks of some kind up and including their own life. If these wizards could cast such spells with ease then it was worrying news.

"It is pretty easy to cast, any students here could except for the requirement of having to fuel it with powerful dark emotions. It's also nearly impossible to block."

"That's it? Powerful dark emotions and nearly unblockable? How are you people not on the brink of extinction?" shrieked the pyromancer losing her cool "This whole damn plane should be like Grixis!"

"I fear I know nothing of this Grixis place, but the answer to your question is simple: that spell and its spiritual sisters aren't taught anywhere and outlawed by every government. Using one of them on a human being is an almost assured death sentence."

This calmed and worried Chandra at the same time. They had dodged a lightning bolt the other day with Madam Bones if what she had inferred on death magic was true, but apparently these people took the safety of their citizens very seriously. She had to warn Liliana before someone ended up dead. Or worse.

"Be as it may," Dumbledore's voice brought her out of her musings "I fear that your earlier statement holds some truth: Voldemort did not die that night. He was vanquished, reduced within an inch of his life but alive nonetheless."

"So it might be this Voldemort that tampered with your fancy cup to bring me here?" guessed the pyromancer.

Vengeance was a powerful motivation after all. It was something she was intimately familiar with.

"If I have to be completely honest, I know already who used the cup to summon you," admitted the headmaster sounding like he felt all of his years "I also know why."

Chandra stilled. She felt she wasn't going to like the man's next words one bit.

"There's a prophecy, you see, spoken before you were born. It says clearly that you are the only one that can defeat Voldemort."

Chandra hadn't liked prophecies ever since she'd heard the tales Ajani had brought back from Theros, where gods used them frequently. It was one such prophecy that had brought his friend Elspeth to her death. The whole concept that future was somehow set in stone, that no choice was really hers, made Chandra's skin crawl. She was an indomitable spirit standing up for everybody's freedom, just like her parents on Kaladesh. It was the whole reason she had given her oath to the Gatewatch! So Chandra Nalaar had chosen not to believe in prophets and their ominous words. If they could really foresee the future, then they could as well fight to change it. No scrying spell was perfect after all.

_And now, here I am, sitting in front of a man that has all but admitted of robbing me of my freedom because someone fancying themselves a seer had said so._

She let out a long sigh, got up and slowly walked to the door.

"There's another reason."

Dumbledore's voice stopped her but not the roaring inferno inside her mind. She had halted because she knew perfectly well that _any_ movement she made would result in the headmaster's fiery death if she didn't get herself marginally under control.

The man took it as a sign to continue instead.

"I know how Voldemort survived that night, and you are instrumental in avoiding he does it again."

"I don't care," replied Chandra as her hair turned to blazing flames, but her voice was cold.

It spoke of an anger so deep that it could consume entire planes leaving nothing behind. It spoke of terrible retribution. It spoke of hurt, pain and sorrow.

Dumbledore ignored it.

"But you have to care! You have -"

Chandra lost it. She spoke a word so powerful that the air in the office shook and time stood still in wait, interrupting the man's pleas. Then the air itself turned into fire, bright tongues of liquid pain consuming everything near her, turning it all to ashes.

The spell exploded out, destroying the office and the whole tower around it, and almost killing anyone caught in its mercifully short range.

* * *

When later Chandra came to her senses in a bed in the infirmary, she was in a world of pain.

She tried to push her mind past her suffering to try to remember. And remember she did.

The Worldfire.

It was the singularly most powerful spell she knew, and she dreaded losing her temper in fear of using it by accident, like she had done years ago. She still sometimes had nightmares about the razed monastery, with the scorched monks sifting through the rubble.

"Ah good, you're awake," came the school healer's voice, her tone decidedly not gentle "Maybe you can tell me what happened. Never seen burns like those and no dead. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

She was about to open her mouth and say that it was all her fault, that she had lost control, when someone else answered.

"Ah Poppy," said Dumbledore's inexplicably jolly voice, though it sounded croaky, like splintering dry wood "I fear it has been my fault. Me and Miss Nalaar were experimenting with her spells and... Well, you know what they say about playing with fire..."

Chandra's eyes suddenly opened, she needed to look at the man. The light of the infirmary stung her sleep addled eyes, but she didn't care.

The headmaster was a pitiful sight, laying on a bed completely covered in bandages, his impressive beard reduced to a small stump on his chin.

Around him were standing the nurse, the transfiguration and potions professors, a portly man with a lime green bowler hat and Madam Bones in her crimson robes. They all wore worried expressions on their faces.

"Playing with fire?! Your tower is gone Albus!" reprimanded him the female professor "It doesn't exist anymore, along with all your things! It's a miracle you two were simply injured, let alone the only ones!"

"What I want to know," interjected Madam Bones in a tone that was calm and yet full of steel "Is if I have to arrest you or Miss Nalaar."

"Don't be hasty Amelia," protested the paltry man in a conceited tone "We cannot have you arresting either of them on tomorrow's first page! The citizens would have my head!"

"It's my fault," said Chandra, her throat parched and her voice raspy "I lost control."

All the adults' eyes in the room turned towards her. She dearly hoped to be in a less pitiful condition than Dumbledore. She honestly doubted it.

"You're awake as well, good," commented the nurse with a curt nod before going back to check the headmaster.

"Nonsense my girl, you're hardly at fault here," replied Dumbledore giving her a meaningful look "With that kind of forces in play, it's no wonder your spell went awry."

For some reason the man looked intent on relieving her of the blame, despite her nearly killing him. She wondered why.

"See Amelia? It was just an unfortunate accident, a spell getting out of control," cut short the man with the bowler hat looking relieved "No need to arrest anybody."

Whoever was that man, he seemed to be pretty important since he could order around an important figure of law enforcement.

"Anyway, it's a pleasure finally meeting you, Miss Potter - No, wait, it's Nalaar isn't it?" said the man smiling at her "I'm the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Let's hope our next meeting happens in less dire circumstances."

He and Madam Bones stayed a while longer, just the time to ask some more pointed questions that the headmaster fielded, before they left along the professors at the nurse's insistence.

"Why?" croaked Chandra to the headmaster as soon as the infirmary matron was out of sight too.

"To atone a bit, my dear. I fear you have much to forgive me for," was the man's answer "We'll continue our talk when we're both feeling better."

She found it a very Jace-ish thing to say. For once, she didn't feel like retaliating by burning the mind mage's cape.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Still can't claim ownership on anything, and still loving you all for your support.**

**A bit of world building this week, we'll return to the story with next chapter.**

CHAPTER 8 - Turn back time

Rose Potter had always been a perceptive girl: she could always feel if those around her were good or bad people, or if they were burdened with sadness. That, and only that, caused her first bout of accidental magic and the first awakening of her spark: it took her a grand total of two hours to understand that Vernon and Petunia Dursley weren't good people to those they perceived as different, and she wanted her loving parents back, so she went away. It seems that her magic found the Nalaars to be as close to the Potters as can be. So while the Dursleys died in the massive fire that was released upon her first planeswalk, she was found and adopted as Chandra Nalaar.

But how did things turn out without a Rose Potter in the wizarding world?

Albus Dumbledore discovered her disappearance the same day, as soon as Miss Figg called him over. He immediately thought of dark wizards, possibly Death Eaters, kidnapping the savior of the wizarding world, even if nothing pointed in that direction. The good headmaster spent the following nine years searching for Rose, even involving the ministry and the aurors. They didn't find her, so he decided to drop his plans to start molding her to her destiny of vanquishing Voldemort through the debacle with the philosopher stone in 1991.

Rose Potter's disappearance influenced Sirius Black too, who discovered it only in 1984. He lost one of the only thoughts keeping him safe from the dementors and soon succumbed to their effects. He died two years later, leaving everything to Rose and one Remus Lupin.

Nicolas Flamel never gave his precious stone away. He and his wife Perenelle still live peacefully in a secret location.

Quirinus Quirrell, always the scaredy cat, got so perturbed by Rose Potter's disappearance that he refused to leave the safety of Hogwarts wards. He kept teaching Muggle Studies.

Being the only applicant, Gilderoy Lockart was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in 1990.

Voices in shady corners spoke of a dark ghost hiding in the deep forests of Albania, but nobody went to check on them.

In 1992 Lucius Malfoy implemented one of his master's plans, or so the diary had said, and gave what he thought was a cursed item to Ginny Weasley, hoping to get some filth out of the school.

The diary was actually one of Voldemort's horcruxes and it manipulated Ginny into trying to kill as many unworthy wizards as she could by releasing the basilisk like fifty years before. Unfortunately for Voldemort, this time Mirtle wasn't a killable crying mess but a ghostly one, so when she saw Ginny opening the Chamber of Secrets, she reported her to the headmaster before any deaths. The diary got destroyed in the end.

Ginny Weasley was only eager to learn magic. She put her trust into a magic diary and paid the consequences. The diary had done such a massive amount of damage that she got admitted to 's permanent mental ward a scant few months into her first year at Hogwarts.

Despite his courses being essentially useless, Gilderoy Lockhart kept his position as a teacher, to the dismay of other professors. There simply were no other applicants for the job except Severus Snape, potion master of Hogwarts. Since there were no applicants for potions either, his request was rejected.

Peter Pettigrew, better known as Scabbers the rat, kept living his life as Ron Weasley's pet, with no one knowing of his real identity.

In 1993 finally Hogwarts had a new applicant for the Defense position so Dumbledore hired Remus Lupin. Not even Severus Snape protested if the alternative was Lockhart.

Despite his dismissal from his previous job, Gilderoy Lockhart's books kept selling well until late 1993, when Hermione Granger, a bright muggleborn witch, exposed him as a fraud in an anonymous letter to the _Daily Prophet_. He was thoroughly investigated and later convicted for his crimes.

In the same year, Barty Crouch Jr. escaped his father's clutches and left Britain in search of his master. He found him in Albania.

Barty Crouch senior fell into a deep depression that left him party unable of doing his duties. Young Percival Weasley was promoted to the post of his Senior Undersecretary.

In the summer of 1994, wizarding Britain hosted the Quiddich world cup final. Unfortunately, during the after match festivities, a group of Death Eaters decided to don their mask and spread some terror, for old times' sake. During the commotion, a returned Barty Crouch Jr. was ordered by his master to cast the Dark Mark to attract attention of the misguided Death Eaters, so he stole a wand and did so. Some of the dark wizards fled fearing their master, some other heeded the call.

Ron Weasley's day went from good –he had seen Victor Krum up close– to horrible when his wand was used to cast the Dark Mark in the sky over the stadium. Since the Ministry "had to be seen doing something", as minister Fudge put it, Ron was summarily arrested and shipped to Azkaban to spend six months in the dementors' tender care. In the minister's defense, it wasn't that believable that Ron's wand got stolen, used to cast the Dark Mark, and then returned to his pocket.

Molly Weasley, suffering the loss of her youngest son so soon after her daughter, fell into depression. In her pitiful state, she failed to notice Scabbers while moving some furniture and killed him. No one noticed.

In order to save face on international level, minister Fudge proposed to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, albeit a safer version. Dumbledore saw an opportunity to use the fabled Goblet of Fire to bring Rose back, so he supported the idea. Those loyal to the dark lord supported the idea too, because their master said so.

Since Remus Lupin was a great teacher, lycanthropy notwithstanding, he kept his job. Severus Snape tried to get him sacked but failed spectacularly when the families of many students demanded the werewolf kept his position.

In the same summer, a bill was passed by the conservative faction of the Wizengamot preventing ghosts from teaching, so professor Cuthbert Binns was dismissed after four hundred years of honored service and Narcissa Malfoy was hired. Her job as a plant for the Dark Lord was to rig the Triwizard Tournament to send the best champion to fuel Voldemort's resurrection ritual, it mattered little whoever it was. When Rose Potter, or Chandra Nalaar since she had taken a new name, appeared in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Narcissa's mission became to get her through the tournament and to Voldemort, for surely the Girl-Who-Lived was the best candidate.

Victor Krum, Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory were all excited of having been chosen as champions and all pretty confident in themselves. After "meeting" the fourth champion and seeing her ignite a piece of wood wandlessly and wordlessly they were a bit less confident but all equally decided to show her they weren't to be ignored like she had.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: as promised, we're back into the thick of things, no more filler chapters for a while (or forever, I doubt I'll need more worldbuilding).**

**As always, I'm not either R. Garfield nor J. K. Rowling.**

CHAPTER 9 – Day of the dragons

It took Madam Pomfrey two days to reestablish Chandra's health and an additional one for the elderly headmaster, but after all of that they could reconvene in Dumbledore's temporary study, that is to say an abandoned classroom thoroughly cleaned.

Of course, before the meeting, the pyromancer dosed herself with some mildly potent calming draught, just to be safe.

"I'd like to start this meeting by saying that I'm sorry about your office," said Chandra sitting at the transfigured desk "I shouldn't have lost control like that."

"And I'll reiterate that it was mainly my fault, like many other things," answered Dumbledore with extreme calm that belied his tiredness before his usual twinkle reentered his eyes "But let's not think on the past too much, it makes me feel old. As I was saying the other day, you're absolutely essential to Voldemort's fall. There's the prophecy of course, but there is also the fact that you are a symbol of hope for wizards."

"A symbol they were pretty ready to discard after that that article in the paper," reminded him Chandra.

She hadn't forgotten how people had looked at Ajani, Liliana and herself too, all just because someone said so. She would still fight for their freedom, it was kind of her job after all, even if sheep seldom really wanted it.

"I'll be the first to admit the wizarding world isn't perfect, that its populace tend to take anything in the paper as godsend, and that a libel law would go a long way in helping," said the headmaster with a sigh and a placating gesture "But now there is no threat to their lives, if Voldemort came back they'd surely rally up to you."

"I really hope we won't need it, but we'll see."

"On that note, there is a third reason for my desperate actions," admitted the elderly man looking uncertain "But I'm not sure how much your mind his safe. This is an incredibly dangerous secret to know, you see, and giving it to an unprotected mind would be extremely risky."

"Jace, our mind mage, once told that my mind would be too dangerous to try reading or controlling even in the case he could actually grasp it," explained the girl with a sly smile "He can use telepathy with me only because I've let him in."

"Would you let me test your mental resilience?" asked Dumbledore showing her his wand "The mind arts are little explored in the Wizarding World, but keeping this safe is paramount."

Chandra only nodded.

"_Legilimens_," chanted the headmaster staring her in the eyes.

She felt a gentle pressure against her mind and knew he was probing her defenses.

Chandra had never actually studied what Dumbledore knew as occlumency, but she had grown up in a monastery where meditation and mental discipline were the basis of their teachings. Also, her mind tended to be too chaotic and volatile for most people to take a peek. She seriously doubted that if Jace couldn't do it, Dumbledore or Voldemort had any hope of succeeding. Bolas probably could, but he was a millennia old dragon archmage with no morality to speak of and the ability to shatter minds by touch alone, things like that tended to stack the deck in his favor.

After a couple of long minutes of searching, the headmaster grimaced, drew back from her mind and said: "I see what your friend meant, my dear. You have some basis of occlumency, but the way your mind actually works is your greatest defense. It's essentially impossible to navigate for a well organized mind and more than a bit painful. It's really fascinating."

She wasn't actually sure it was a compliment, but decided to roll with it. Better not test how good that calming draught actually was.

"Thanks. Now, the great secret?"

"Voldemort should have died that night thirteen years ago. Nobody could have survived the backslash but he had done extensive preparation to avoid leaving this life," explained Dumbledore solemnly "He created something called horcrux, anchoring some pieces of his soul to objects to prevent his permanent death. While even one of those foul things survives, he can come back as many times as he wishes."

"He messed with his _soul_?" exclaimed Chandra, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs "That's stupid with a capital S."

"Indeed it's dangerous and far darker than most people are comfortable with, fortunately."

"So, he's a lich? With his soul stored away in some phylactery?"

"I fear I've never heard the term lich but the idea is remarkably similar. His soul was shredded and each fragment was hidden separately in various objects, all of them with some special meaning to him. I'm not sure how many he has created though."

"At least tell me you have some idea on what to look for or where."

"Some, yes," he said, then he took a steadying breath and continued "I fear you have one such fragment in your scar."

Silence reigned for a minute and the old man thanked Merlin for the calming draught.

"I think I might have accidentally removed it already," slowly revealed Chandra looking pensive.

"You removed it?" asked Dumbledore trying to think how it could be possible without the girl killing herself and coming up with absolutely nothing.

"It happened some time ago, on my first foray on Zendikar... Something to do with Ugin's Eye and ghostfire, it's a long story... I always wondered what that black ichor from my scar was..."

"Would you permit me to check?" he asked, urgency clear in his voice.

Again, the pyromancer simply nodded. It was in her interest as much as his after all.

The headmaster reclined back, staring at the girl speechless. His spells confirmed the girl's story.

It looked like he had yet another sin to atone for.

* * *

The rest of November flew by with comparatively little excitement.

Chandra followed through with her intention of visiting the Care for Magical Creatures lessons, held by the gentle groundskeeper, and fell in love with the creature they were studying, the blast-ended skrewts, which in turn won her Hagrid's forgiveness for her treatment of the headmaster. The skrewts were unarmored, shrimp-like creatures that moved around by propelling themselves with fiery bursts and seemed to disrespect any outside imput, doing only what they wanted, what was there not to like?

She also paid visit to various Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. The contents were interesting, especially when dealing with the so called "dark creatures". She was sure a good two thirds of Innistrad would take offence to that classification though.

She also discovered that professor Lupin had been an old friend of her birth parents, so they spent a couple of afternoons talking about them over tea. She didn't particularly care for the Potters, she'd never actually ever even heard of them up to the previous month, but it was interesting to unearth her roots.

It felt a bit like returning home and reuniting with her mom, albeit more bittersweet.

* * *

On November the twenty-fourth, Chandra ate a big breakfast and proceeded to ignore Hermione's panic in favor of focusing on the task. She had long since learned that focus was more helpful than mindless worry, or at least it kept her from burning up.

Once in the champions' tent, she discovered that both the foreign contestants appeared to be very worried, like they knew already what the task entailed. Chandra guessed that the giantess and the Sarkhan Vol lookalike had been less correct than Ajani and Dumbledore.

It turned out, as explained by the fattish man that introduced himself as Bagman, that the task consisted in stealing a golden egg from a nesting mother dragon. From the three champions' expressions, her guess had been spot on. The order of the contestants and which dragon they'd face was balloted.

Since she had drawn the Hungarian Horntail, the last dragon, she sat in a corner of the tent and waited her turn, listening to the commentary. Apparently, Hogwarts' champion had gotten injured but retrieved the egg, the other boy had blinded his dragon, which resulted in all the real eggs getting smashed, while the French girl had put her dragon asleep with some kind of racial power. Chandra guessed they had done ok against such odds.

When she was finally called, she calmly walked into the arena, while actually reminiscing her last two battles with dragons and her visit to the arena on Kaladesh. She dearly hoped this one would turn out better than any of those.

As soon as she walked on the battlefield, she took another page out of Gideon's book and surveyed the situation: right in front of her was a massive creature covered in dark scales and spikes crouched above a nest. She also immediately saw something that made her sad. And more than a bit mad.

"Chained?" she muttered looking at the sturdy looking links limiting the dragon's movements "That's horrible. Really, what's with people and arenas?"

The beast roared its challenge, or rather, its disdain over being detained, and she shook her head to banish the distracting thought and focus back on the task.

With a smirk on her lips, she started walking towards the dragon while donning her goggles. If these wizards wanted a spectacle, she would make sure to give them one.

The dragon spat a torrent of blue-orange flames at her. She responded in kind, rising a hand to spew her own stream of fire. The two attacks met halfway, stalling themselves in a contest of strength.

Then Chandra did the unexpected.

"Come on big girl," she shouted throwing a decently sized fireball at the chain with her free hand "Time to dance!"

The whole audience stilled as the attack connected, making three massive link glow a dull red. When nothing seemed to happen, the spectators roared.

"Pay attention girl, you might free the beast!" came Bagman's voice over the din of the crowd.

The dragon, on its part, halted the flow of flames and watched the strange human female carefully.

Chandra ignored them all, muttering to herself about "not hot enough", pausing only to cut her own stream.

She raised both hands this time, her hair burning up once again as she focused her attention on the still glowing links. She molded her flames in a new, larger fireball, then compressed and threw it.

The chain glowed decidedly brighter, a nice sunshine yellow hue.

Chandra smirked and readied herself for another hit.

The audience screamed and some of them started running.

The dragon handlers poured into the arena, very conscious that those chains could hold only so much abuse before breaking. They had told the organizers of needing specialized chains, but the budget hadn't permitted it.

Liliana, in the stands, was holding a panicked Hermione in her seat while chuckling amusedly to herself.

The judge panel was discussing of disqualifying the girl, while Ajani simply shook his head. He should have seen this coming.

The dragon spat a torrent of flames again, this time on the chain to help the weird human female. Nothing bad could come out of it.

The chain broke before the third fireball had to be thrown, an everyone stilled.

The dragon roared its happiness before turning towards the handlers, fangs glinting in the light.

The wizards stopped in their tracks. They were in a bad position, the casualties were sure to be heavy.

"No, bad dragon!" shouted Chandra hitting the beast massive head with a weak fireball "No harming humans ok? You're free now, take your eggs and go!"

The dragon turned towards the weird human with the flaming hair and tilted its head to the side. Hadn't it been a multi-ton apex predator it could have been defined cute. It then ducked its head under its belly to take its eggs in its mouth, leaving behind the funny tasting one and the ones that were already dead thanks to the humans' carelessness.

The handlers stared at the scene, unsure of what to make of it: in front of them, a witch was speaking to a dragon like it was a dog and it was acquiescing with her requests.

The massive creature then spread its wings and, with a mighty pounce, flew up and away.

Chandra waved the dragon goodbye then calmly strolled towards the discarded eggs and grabbed the golden one, a big grin plastered on her face. Once done, she turned towards the designated exit and walked out of the arena.

"Let's see the damage," the gruff voice of the school nurse greeted her before the woman shouted "Sweet Merlin, your hair is on fire!"

"What? Oh, sorry," she commented extinguishing her hair with a thought "I forgot about it."

That was as far as the discussion with the nurse got before the whole judge panel came in, loudly demanding an explanation for what happened.

"Ok, first of all," said Chandra raising a hand in a placating gesture "Nobody said what we were supposed to do with the dragon. If something wasn't permitted you should have stated so. Second, I despise chains, as in I find them absolutely abhorrent. And last, you should count your blessings it listened to me and didn't go on a rampage. That would have been a problem."

"That's what I'm interested in actually," said Dumbledore jovially smiling at her "Dragons usually don't listen to people."

"Who cares about that!" vehemently protested the mustachioed man that she had discovered was from the ministry "What about the muggles?"

"Who?"

"Non magical people," politely explained the headmaster.

He and Ajani were obviously smirking under their whiskers.

"Uh, ok..." said the girl, still visibly unsure "What about them?"

"How do we explain the dragon when they'll see it?" demanded the ministry official, his face red with obvious fury.

"I don't know," admitted Chandra shrugging her shoulders "And sincerely I don't care either."

"Listen here, you-" started the man before being cut by the pyromancer.

"No, _you_ listen. Were you hoping nobody noticed how awful those chains were? Low quality and pain spells to help subdue those poor creatures. Count your blessings little man, because if it had been someone else in my place you'd all be _dead_, with _four_ rampaging dragons on the loose."

She was obviously referring to Sarkhan-Vol. It was hard not to think of the mad shaman when she had his twin brisling in front of her face.

"You cannot speak like that to me, I'm-"

"Again, I don't care who you are," stated Chandra igniting her free hand "Or maybe you're fireproof, little man?"

The mustachioed ministry employee remained conspicuously silent.

Dumbledore and Ajani looked on the scene with a disproving look.

"Thought so," smirked Chandra extinguishing her hand before pointing to the bed where the Hogwarts champion laid "Now, how about helping in patching up that poor boy laying there, burns are a real pain."

As soon as the short man filed away, followed by the foreign headmasters, Dumbledore and Ajani expressed their disappointment in how she had dealt with the man, who she learned was named Crouch.

"I know I know, not one of my most diplomatic moments," admitted Chandra shaking her head and rising her hands in a placating gesture "But hey, I got the egg and saved the day, I say it went great."

* * *

The dragon reached the nearby mountain range and touched down with a mighty _fwomp_. The collar still hurt, but it was slowly fading. The mother decided to think of it later, she had a more pressing task on hand: time to build a new nest for the eggs.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: hello again! Just dropping by to remind you I'm not making money out of this and that I love your continued support.**

CHAPTER 10 – Crashing wave

Much like Ajani and Dumbledore had pointed out, Chandra's actions both in the arena and right after the task won her the last place in the Tournament and the _Daily Prophet_'s first page. Again. Exactly as the previous time, she was decidedly less than happy about the press coverage: freeing a dragon next to a school and threatening a ministry official tended to attract the wrong kind of attention, after all.

The article had presented her as dangerous and unstable, arriving to the point of asking for her expulsion from Hogwarts. Now, the pyromancer would be the first to admit that she was a very emotional person, and that her particular brand of magic made her dangerous under any set of circumstances, but from there to mental instability it was a bit of a long shot in her opinion.

Also, she couldn't get expelled since she wasn't a student.

In the end she didn't really care.

No, what stoked her flames were the looks and the whispers. Random students in the corridors would stare at her like she was about to throw fireballs around and, when they thought she couldn't notice, they'd start to whisper some concern or some lie. There were, of course, some less subtle than the rest –like Malfoy and his green trimmed ilk– who would grab every opportunity to make fun of her from what they perceived as a safe distance. They were deluding themselves, of course: it was safe _only_ because she had promised Dumbledore.

Only Hermione, Luna and that weird younger boy with the camera seemed to be on her side throughout all the student body, while the professors seemed to be largely uninterested in her plight, with the exception of Hagrid, Lupin and the headmaster.

One individual in particular stood out though, for he neither ostracized nor supported her: professor Severus Snape. Chandra caught him staring at her more and more frequently with curiosity and something akin to regret, and she sincerely didn't know what to make of him. On her part, Liliana found him a bit creepy.

Deciding to treat the problem in one of the only two ways she knew ‒that is to say burning or ignoring them‒ Chandra turned her attention towards solving the clue hidden in the golden egg. Or rather, bother someone until they solved it for her. Normally, she'd ask her friends, but Liliana wasn't the type to spend any time on such things, while Ajani couldn't help her as per tournament rules and Hermione found it to be cheating and didn't want to have anything to do with it. This left her with precious little candidates left, especially since Luna could only be found when she wanted to.

_Jace, you there?_ she sent through their shared mind link.

Just because he wasn't there, it didn't mean that he wasn't one of the smartest individuals she knew. Also, he loved this kind of things.

_What is it Chandra?_ came his less than cordial response _I'm trying to fathom Bolas' plan here..._

_Sheesh Jace, I just asked a question!_

_You're right, sorry,_ said the mind mage with a mental sigh _It's just so incredibly frustrating trying to outsmart Nicol Bolas!_

_Jace Beleren admitting he's wrong and saying he's sorry? I'll have to remember this day..._

_If you called only to get a laugh out of me... _He let the threat linger, not needing to conclude it.

_No no, it's something serious relating to the tournament!_

And with that, the pyromancer explained the situation to her friend and opened the egg to send him a couple of memories of the same event.

_Interesting,_ admitted Jace analyzing both scenes in his mind _I think I recognize this language, but I cannot translate it. I'll send an expert over, ok?_

_Are you telling me those screeches are a language?_ wondered Chandra scratching her head _And what expert are you talking of?_

But Jace didn't reply. The redhead cursed at him and "his blasted cryptism".

She got her answers anyway some hours later when someone knocked on her quarters door.

"Oh, so you can be decent sometimes," commented Hermione once Chandra opened the door.

"Had a change of heart and came to help with the egg?" asked the redhead ignoring the barb.

"No, you're needed at the gates. There's someone asking to see you."

"Oh, it must be the expert Jace mentioned!" she said leaving her quarters and closing the door behind her back "Let's get to it then, so that I can solve that stupid egg."

"Your telepath friend is helping you cheat?" asked Hermione stopping in the middle of the hallway and raising a challenging eyebrow.

"Nope, the egg's screams are a language of some kind, Jace only sent someone he thinks might know it."

"You should be doing it alone."

"I went as far as I could with my own legs, Hermione, then it was either melting the blasted thing or asking for help," explained Chandra in a tired tone "There's no dishonor in asking a friend to give you a hand."

"Another quote stolen from one of your friends?" asked the bushy haired witch resuming walking.

"I prefer borrowed, and no, nobody ever said those words to me directly, but it's a feeling I frequently get from Gideon. He's big on helping others."

The rest of the walk was spent in silence as Hermione ruminated on her friend's words.

Once at the gates, Chandra saw that, much as when Liliana and Ajani had arrived, a decently sized crowd had gathered to see the new arrival. She found she could hardly hold it against them: if Ajani had been an exotic, albeit intimidating, sight, the new arrival that was conversing with Dumbledore wasn't any more human than the leonid but decidedly easier on the eye, as demonstrated by many male students that were anything but subtle in ogling her.

She wasn't particularly tall, even counting the gravity defying ensemble of azure fins making up what could be considered her hair. Kiora's blue skin was just as exposed for all to see as it had been on Zendikar, covered only by strategically placed pieces of rust brown armor that still gave the impression of her being completely naked. It was hard to guess her age from looks alone, especially considering she wasn't human, but she could have been in her late teens or barely twenty. Her endless curiosity shined in her almond shaped eyes as she discussed with the headmaster, animatedly gesturing at everything in sight, Thassa's bident left forgotten against the gates themselves. On her forehead was a large blue gem, like a tiara without mount.

"Great, another one. Are all your female friends exhibitionists?" asked Hermione in a huff, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself.

The pyromancer's only answer was a chuckle.

"Oh, hello Red!" half shouted Kiora excitedly waving at her "Jace never said this place was so incredible! Did you know they had merfolks here too?"

"Hello Fishy," said Chandra offering the mergirl a warm smile "How's Turi? I guess you're the expert Jace mentioned."

"Can't get any more experience on merfolk language than me, can you?" replied the other with a big smile of her own and a wink "And my little sister is fine."

"Am I to deduce you know this delightful girl, miss Nalaar?" asked Dumbledore once the greetings seemed to be out of the way.

"Sure thing," said Kiora nodding "Met her on Zendikar, we fought the Eldrazi together. By Cosi, I wouldn't have a home anymore if it wasn't for Red here and her pals."

"It's true. She's not part of the Gatewatch but she's a friend nonetheless," confirmed the redhead "Hermione, headmaster, meet Kiora. Fishy, meet my friend Hermione Granger and Albus Dumbledore."

"A pleasure Miss Kiora," said the elder wizard in his patented grandfather-y tone "I'd better open up the gates then."

The two planeswalkers and Hermione then proceeded towards Chandra's quarters while the bushy haired witch tempested the mergirl with a barrage of questions and Kiora looked around, awe in her eyes.

"By Cosi," she said sitting on Chandra's bed with Hermione "This place is incredible!"

"I've seen better," dispassionately commented Liliana appearing in the doorway "You must be Kiora, the one who fought the sea goddess on Theros, right?"

"What do you mean she fought a goddess?" protested the bushy haired witch "Gods are just imaginary constructs created by humans to explain natural phenomena."

Kiora looked at the girl with what could only be described as a mixture of pity and longing before explaining: "I used to think like that too, back when I was a little kid and the elders told us stories of Ula, Emeria and Cosi. Stupid tales to teach us something, that's what I thought they were. And then, those three gods came out of their ancestral prison and started razing my plane."

"Remember the memory I showed you all? The one with the Eldrazi?" added Chandra in a soft tone "That was Ulamog, that the merfolk knew as the god Ula."

"But..."

"Hermione, you know I appreciate intelligent conversation and you are one of the precious few who can provide me with that around here, but you can be really stupid sometimes," said Liliana sending a glare at the girl so cold that it killed any reply "I mean, you can accept that you can use magic, that we came from other worlds, but you cannot imagine that gods might actually exist?"

"Liliana is right Hermione, even if a bit abrasive as always," said Chandra placing a hand on one of the witch's "You have to open your mind to new possibilities."

A long silence descended on the room as everyone waited Hermione's reply while the girl herself only stared at Chandra. In the end, she nodded her head.

"Good," jovially said Kiora clapping her hands before turning to the necromancer "Now, about your question, yes I fought Thassa and stole her bident. You must be Liliana Vess. I heard things about you..."

"Hopefully, you heard them from Jace or you might have a pretty low opinion of me," chuckled the raven haired woman.

Kiora stared at her for a moment before raising what passed for an eyebrow and asking: "An angel?"

"I had a very good reason."

Hermione was still too lost in her musings to question the statement.

"Liliana's infamy aside," said Chandra retrieving the egg and passing it to Kiora "Here's the clue. There's a latch on top."

As soon as the mergirl's fingers fond how to open the shell, the remaining planeswalkers hands flew to their ears. Hermione was still distracted, but soon realized her error and went to do the same.

"I see, interesting..." commented Kiora once the screeches had ceased "It's a little poem in mermish. I'll spare you the details, it essentially says that they'll take something you're attached to and hid it somewhere underwater, probably near a merfolk village. Oh, and you'll have only one hour to recover it."

**AN(again): in case you were wondering, Kiora's and Chandra's nicknames for each other are completely made up. There isn't any real indication they even ever met on Zendikar to be honest.**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Don't own anything, as always.**

**I had a Guest commenting about how this was a self-insert fic… Now, I'm kinda sure I'm not a redhead planeswalker, it made me curious: do you agree?**

CHAPTER 11 – Act on Impulse

"I see, interesting..." commented Kiora once the screeches had ceased "It's a little poem in mermish. I'll spare you the details, it essentially says that they'll take something you're attached to and hid it somewhere underwater, probably near a merfolk village. Oh, and you'll have only one hour to recover it."

"There are merrows in the Black Lake," supplied Hermione looking worriedly at Chandra "I guess your magic is hampered by the water, isn't it?"

"Completely useless," said the redhead grimacing "I guess that's what I get for speaking up to that Ministry guy, Couch or whatever."

"Though luck Red," said Kiora patting her on a shoulder "I suppose you cannot nominate a proxy?"

"I wouldn't hope so," commented Liliana looking thoughtful "Especially if the organizers bear a grudge against you. That said, we can always cheat."

"Cheating is against the rules, Liliana," warned Hermione in a stern tone.

The three planeswalker exchanged a look.

"Hermione, I know you've got this following the rule thing..." started Chandra slowly.

"Dreadfully boring if you ask me," interjected Kiora mirthfully "But it always worked for Turi, so whatever you think is best."

"Yeah, that. What I was trying to say though was that we're talking of me and Liliana here, not you," continued the pyromancer "We kind of disregard the rules."

"Disregard dear?" asked the necromancer in a fake effected tone "You're a wanted thief in at least two different planes and a walking powder keg at best of times, while I have the hobby of breaking the rules of life and death. We're as far as humanly possible from rules."

"Wait, what do you mean you break the rules of life and death?" asked a suddenly alarmed Hermione.

"She doesn't know?" asked Kiora raising an inexistent eyebrow.

"I thought we told her," said Chandra raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"It has surely come up at some point," assented the necromancer nodding "I'm sure I told her I..."

"You what Liliana? You told me you were an healer!"

Kiora snorted, Chandra facepalmed and the supposed healer stared at the witch as if she had grown a second head.

"Hermione, look at me," said Liliana in an emotionless, flat tone "Look at me very well. Do I look like an healer even a little bit?"

"Well, you come from a different world-" started saying the bushy haired girl.

"I'm a death mage, Hermione," stated bluntly the other "Precisely, a necromancer."

A shocked silence fell on the room.

"What in the blazes Liliana?" exclaimed Chandra "You cannot say this kind of things like that! You have to ease people into the idea!"

"You're telling me to be gentle?" bit back the necromancer "_You_?"

"She's kind of right Red..." admitted Kiora before turning on Liliana "That doesn't mean she's wrong though. Too direct girl, that was as subtle as a sandbar eel!"

"Who cares how she said it!" finally exploded Hermione, her hand flying to her wand "She just admitted to being a dark witch!"

"Yes, and if you don't put your wand back in your pocket you'll discover why I deserve that moniker," threatened the necromancer scowling.

"That's enough Liliana, no need to scare her," said Chandra using a hand to lower Hermione's wand "And yes Hermione. She was born with death magic and uses it, end of story ok?"

"But she-"

"Hermione," stressed the redhead interrupting her newest friend "She needs a flick of her wrist to kill you, slowly and painfully. I'm trying to keep you alive here, so shut it."

A heavy silence descended on the room, tinged darkly with worry and anger.

"Ok," finally said Hermione in a tiny voice putting her wand away.

"Good. You two can talk this out later ok? Maybe when Ajani is on hand to prevent meaningless... Damages," said Chandra nodding before turning to Kiora "What else can you tell me of the clue, Fishy."

"The clue, right." muttered Kiora before adding in a normal tone "Well, there's not much more to say about it, it's pretty straightforward. The only thing is that they might take a hostage instead of a thing, the phrasing is ambiguous, but it still needs to be something or someone you'd sorely miss."

"And who would they take? They can't take mom, you and the rest of the Gatewatch are out too, Ajani is a judge and Liliana would kill them all."

"Not that we're actually that close to begin with," commented the necromancer shrugging "Just like you're not very close with either Luna or Hermione here."

"That leaves a thing..." muttered the redhead pensively before suggesting "My goggles?"

"I think the what is superfluous right now," said Hermione speaking up but looking everywhere but at Liliana "You need a way to survive underwater for an hour in freezing cold water and to defend yourself from the creatures of the lake. A source of light would be useful too."

"I can take care of the defense part, if you can find a way to walk on the lakebed," suggested Liliana "I just need to find the closest graveyard. Or any corpse, really."

Hermione became a little green at the suggestion.

Chandra stared at her for a moment to avoid another episode before adding: "I can warm the water up so I don't freeze, but nothing else."

"If you want, I can teach you a basic light spell," suggested the witch with a sigh "You might need a focus to cast it though..."

"I can map the lake for you, but I might look suspect," said Kiora scratching her chin "The merrows aren't the nicest of fellows, they'd tell someone if I went snooping around..."

"They might snitch about my bodyguards too, that'd be annoying," pondered Liliana "I need to think of an alternative..."

"This leaves breathing underwater... And I have no idea..." summarized Chandra frowning.

"And proper attire," added Hermione.

The redhead gave her a suspicious look.

"You cannot swim in leather and chainmail armor!" protested the witch "And certainly not naked!"

The three planeswalkers smirked.

* * *

After their little episode during the discussion about the clue, things became tense between Hermione and Liliana, with the bushy haired girl trying her best to avoid the necromancer or, when it wasn't an option, to ignore her.

"You and Liliana have to solve this thing," stated Chandra almost a week after they had discussed the clue and Kiora's subsequent departure.

She and Hermione were in an unused classroom, with the latter trying to teach her the _lumos_ charm wandlessly and silently. It wasn't proceeding well, so they had decided to take a break.

"It's easy for you," said the witch a tad bitterly "You'd think the same had you grown up here."

"You think I find it ok? No! Death magic is repulsive Hermione, I agree, but our magic is innate. She had no choice in this, she was born a necromancer."

"There's always a choice Chandra. She could have chosen a different way to employ her talent."

"Like protecting the Multiverse?" teased the pyromancer "Objectively, yes she could have chosen differently here and there, but in the end? She could have been far worse: she's stable, collected and works towards the betterment of any plane we visit. You should sincerely be more worried of me."

Hermione paused, visibly lost in thought.

"She's the same woman you got to know in the past month, I promise."

The witch nodded, then got up and made to leave the room.

"Keep practicing, we'll continue tomorrow," she said stopping on the threshold before leaving.

"I better browse the library... Let's hope they have some good fire suppressant spells around..." muttered Chandra getting up and leaving the room too.

* * *

The talk between Hermione and Liliana went well, meaning that the necromancer didn't get a new undead handmaiden and the bushy haired witch got to ask as many questions as she liked. This, unfortunately, had the side effect of stimulating Hermione's curiosity in just how much Liliana's magic was different from her own kind, something that the necromancer found immensely funny.

Apparently, Liliana had a thing for corrupting young and impressionable minds when Jace and Gideon weren't around to rein her in. Unlucky for her, the Hogwarts library was devoid of anything even distantly relating to necromancy and, even if there had been any books, they would have been in the restricted section, which helped keeping Hermione away from the darkest branches of magic.

In the end, around mid-December, things went back to normal in their little group, for how normal things could be with three planeswalkers.

Chandra continued her lessons one evening a week, describing the various planes she, Liliana and Ajani had visited, often using Dumbledore's pensive to show landscapes or unusual races or creatures. They purposely left Zendikar out after Madam Pomfrey informed the leonid of the number of students requesting dreamless sleep potions after they had viewed Chandra's memory of Ulamog. Similarly, they also avoided those planes that might have a negative impact on the audience, or at least their darkest aspects.

Ten days before Christmas though, Hermione brought a message from professor McGonagall that shook their normalcy: there was going to be a ball on Yuletide, a tradition of the Tournament apparently. Normally, this wouldn't have even touched the little group, but since Chandra was a champion and a Ajani a judge they were required to attend, and the redhead had to have a date too. This brought a problem to light:

"I don't dance," stated Chandra upon hearing of the ball "I'll attend, I'll even dress up for the occasion if I have to, but I refuse to dance."

"But you're required for the opening dance!" protested Hermione "It's the tradition!"

The pyromancer would have said something like "I torch traditions'" hadn't Ajani placed a front paw on one of her shoulders and asked if she could actually dance. The redhead's silence was very conspicuous.

"I'll see if there's something like a dance class for beginners," said the leonid good-humouredly "After all, I somewhat doubt the dances here will involve ritual paint and large bonfires like on Naya."

With that, Ajani left the room to find the transfiguration professor, humming a fast-paced tune to himself.

"That's all nice and well," interrupted Liliana, a mischievous smirk creasing her lips "But our resident hothead needs a date for the ball too. Who are you going to ask? And more importantly, what are you going to wear?"

"Oh no, I know where you're going with this and the answer is no," stated the pyromancer shaking her head "I'm not letting you play matchmaker with my date, I'll think of it myself. And neither with my wardrobe. Where can I buy some clothes, Hermione?"

"Oh, come on Chandra," protested the necromancer pouting like a five years old who had been banned from cookies "Let a girl have her fun!"

"Next weekend is an Hogsmade weekend, we can go looking for something together..." explained the bushy haired girl while studying Liliana's face.

"Great, a girls only outing! Just what the three of us need!" exclaimed the necromancer bouncing back to a mood far too peppy for everybody's continued safety.

* * *

It soon became apparent that, despite her supposed mental instability and her proved danger, many young males at Hogwarts thought that having _the_ Rose Potter at their arm for the Yule Ball was something worth the risk that was Chandra Nalaar. The pyromancer rebutted every single one of them, even the nice ones, on the base of a snap decision taken thanks to her first petitioner: Draco Malfoy.

The blonde Slytherin had decided, with the help of his mother and father, that having Chandra accompany him would be extremely beneficial both to the Malfoy name and to the Dark Lord's cause. Not wanting to waste any time and risk of losing his chance, he approached Chandra at the first occasion he got: at dinner the day the ball was announced.

"Our first meeting didn't go over well," he said coming up to Gryffindor table where the three planeswalker used to eat with Luna and Hermione "But I'm sure it was due to being in a new place and everything."

"What do you want Malfoy?" asked the bushy haired witch before Chandra could come up with anything other than "Who are you again?"

"I'm not talking with you, mudblood. I'm here for Potter," he answered in a cutting tone before turning to the redhead and saying haughtily "Since last time you didn't know better I'll forget it and offer you the chance to have the honour of taking me to the Yule Ball."

For once, Hermione was too stunned to say anything, just like many others in hearing range. Unfortunately for Draco, Chandra wasn't one of them _and_ she had finally remembered him.

"Yeah, not going to happen," she said in a flat tone "I wouldn't take you even if you were the last living being in the castle."

"Think you can do better than me?" dared the blonde "I'm the best choice if you haven't noticed."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Liliana shrugging "It's full of cute boys and girls around here, I'm pretty certain you wouldn't be in the top ten if I bothered making a dateability scale."

"It's not that hard," said the pyromancer ignoring her fellow planeswalker's disturbing remarks "I can summon a better date than you, Malfoy."

"You wouldn't dare choose an inhuman beast over me!" protested the boy, so very sure that his pure blood made him better than anyone else, let alone not-humans.

Chandra narrowed her eyes dangerously, ready to take him up on his dare, while Ajani shook his head and muttered something about "wrong thing to say".

"You know what Malfoy? I think I'll do just that," she said as long wisps of smoke started rising from her hairs "I'll summon my date for that blasted dance!"

"Now you've gone and done it," muttered Liliana facepalming before turning to the blonde and adding "Better get away in silence before she decides to demonstrate. Go."

Since that moment, Chandra had made up her mind and, in the name of putting Malfoy in his place, she proceeded to show that mules weren't the most stubborn creatures living on Kaladesh. She refused all those checking if the rumor was true, those dared by their friends, the idiots after her fame, and even a timid boy from Gryffindor that admitted to actually being interested in the real her.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I'm not making money off this, your and my satisfaction is all the payment I need.**

CHAPTER 12 - Wrecking ball

The weekend following their decision to visit Hogsmeade, Chandra and Hermione were joined by Liliana on the pretext that she actually needed a dress for the Ball. The redhead was sure it was an excuse to pester her, but feigned ignorance.

Since the little wizarding village was, in fact, very small, they actually had only one shop to check: Galdrags. Fortunately for them, that one shop seemed to cater exactly to their needs, providing a pretty vast assortment of dresses and dress gowns which, Liliana was surprised to discover, were not too terribly distant from the latest Innistrad fashion through the vampire families. The pyromancer was only surprised that anyone would wear anything like that.

In the end, after what Chandra considered an inordinate amount of time, the three of them left the shop with clothes and accessories for the occasion: Hermione with a rich burgundy dress with an ample gown, that left her shoulders bare and accentuated her normally hidden figure, showing just a hint of cleavage without being immodest, with matching low heeled shoes; Liliana acquired a golden dress of more muggle cut that –somehow– made her look less pale, an adherent number that showed off everything that the necromancer normally didn't care to hide without actually letting anything be seen apart for her arms and neck, coordinated with a pair of very high heeled shoes in a the same hue; on her part Chandra had won her battle and obtained a brown leather corset with burnished gold straps that showed a bit of her cleavage, over a deep red skirt that fell to her knees on the front while going till mid-calf on the rear, together with a leather gauntlet for her left arm to balance out with her own and a pair of short, brown leather boots.

Liliana's choice of dress had surprised both her companions, especially since neither knew she had a date. She only smirked but said nothing.

Both the necromancer and Hermione protested vehemently to Chandra's choice of dress, but the shopkeeper assured them it was a perfect example of what muggles called steampunk style and it was socially acceptable.

The payment could have been a problem hadn't the shop owner recognized the redhead as Rose Potter and offered to forward the bill to her Gringotts account manager and that she only needed her to send them a letter to give her consent. The pyromancer had been surprised to discover that she was, as much as the shopkeeper knew, pretty well off and vowed to herself to use that wealth in a beneficial ways as soon as the tournament was over.

* * *

The evening of the Yule Ball Chandra was one of the first down to the Great Hall. Not having to do her hair thanks to them being on fire, deeming any makeup just as useless, and not having to wait for her date to show up had made her save a fair amount of time. That isn't to say that she hadn't polished up or that she didn't look her best, as attested by the seven boys that stumbled on the stairs as she passed them on the way down.

Once near the hall, she was accosted by McGonagall. The stern professor was wearing a tartan skirt and a matching sash over a dark robe.

"As soon as your date arrives, Miss Nalaar, you have to enter that room," she said pointing to a nearby door "There, you'll wait for me to guide you in the hall."

"My date, right. I knew I had forgotten something..." said Chandra palming her face.

"Do you mean to say that you forgot to find a suitable date?" asked the professor, her expression turning sour.

"No no, I just have to get it here. No need to worry, promise."

And with that, the pyromancer entered the antechamber she had been pointed towards. Unsurprisingly, it was empty.

"Right, let's get to it," she muttered and started gathering the necessary mana.

Her eyes turned bright orange and fire appeared in her open palms before she kneeled down and placed her hands on the ground. Instantly, a large gout of orange and yellow flames lighted the room, before starting to gradually darken to red, crimson and vermilion with the occasional speck of black cinder. The fire then took a vaguely humanoid shape and a pair of bright yellow eyes opened where its face should have been. It turned its proto-head to Chandra and waited.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, handsome," said the pyromancer getting up and dusting her knees "You are to escort me to the nearby Yule Ball, play the role of my date for the evening and, most importantly, not burn anything that's not served as food. In exchange I'll prepare you a room full of stuff to consume, is that agreeable?"

The burning figure tilted its proto-head to the side, then nodded, an action that sent some little sparks flying.

"Good. Do you have a name or should I keep calling you handsome?"

The fiery creature shrugged.

"Handsome it is then."

"Well, that's not something you see everyday," said a male voice behind Chandra's back.

She turned to see both the male champions with their respective dates: Diggory was in a very formal black suit with yellow accents and had a pretty asian girl in a white shortish dress on his arm who was staring at Handsome wide-eyed, while Krum was wearing a military like deep red uniform with fur linings and golden accents and nodding dumbly while on his left, wearing a very familiar red and gold dress was a girl shaking her head in what was clearly resignation while massaging the bridge of her nose. It took Chandra a moment to realize it was Hermione, all dolled up for her date.

"I take that summoning is not part of the curriculum?" she asked enjoying Hermione's expression greatly.

"Not in Durmstrang, and neither in Hogvarts I believe," answered the Bulgarian champion with a thick accent.

"I'm quite used to it," came Liliana's voice from behind the quartet "But I guess I don't count."

The two couples parted to let the necromancer and her date, the French champion, pass. While the raven haired woman was wearing the dress she had procured in Hogsmeade to look more humane, Delacour had opted for a silvery dress that showed much more skin than strictly needed and made her look more ethereal, like an untouchable eidolon of beauty. The two boys sure seemed to appreciate, if their glassy expressions were of anything to go by.

"It eez new to me too," added the French witch studying the elemental with her gaze, "Can you do anyzing like zis too, ma chère?"

"Only if I wanted to shred your sanity, my little moonglove," humorously answered Liliana caressing Delacour's face, but nobody missed the fact that her answer was a bit too peculiar.

Fortunately for everyone's continued wellbeing –before Hermione could inquire on what Liliana had meant– McGonagall choose that moment to enter the room. She stared at Chandra's date for a long minute, shrugged and without a comment directed the eight of them through the door to the Great Hall.

The usual room layout had been foregone in favor of ice-like decoration fashioned after snowflakes and stars, smaller round tables capable of hosting up to twelve people –except for a larger one in the center obviously designated for champions and judges– all decorated with pure white table linens, and three large pine trees adorned with small candles and tin-foil. There was a diffused light with no obvious origin that shifted subtly trough a rainbow of soft colors, almost like northern lights. The enchanted ceiling showed a clear starlit sky.

The champions entrance got the attention of everyone in the room, of course. It was hard not to notice them after all, especially the tall, flaming creature with Chandra on its arm. That isn't to say, of course, that she got all the attention: Liliana and Delacour both won a good number of lustful stares, and even Hermione got some.

The group paraded through the hall to the largest table, where the judges were already gathered. If Karkaroff, Dumbledore, Bagman and Crouch were dressed as one would expect, albeit with an extra shine for the evening, and Madame Maxime had chosen a pearly pink dress that went well with her complexion, the most flamboyant attire was worn by Ajani: he had somehow procured a dark military uniform with a light blue sash, complete with an array of glittering medals. The only concessions from the rigid clothes he had taken were that he was still barefooted –or barepawed in his case– and he still carried Elspeth's white mantle over his right shoulder.

"With the honour guests finally here," said the headmaster, his voice carrying through the hall "It's time to start the party."

With that, they all took a seat and waited for the food to appear, which it did not. They soon understood how to order whatever they wished though, so the dinner went on without problems, sprinkled with _easy_ conversation:

"Your date is most peculiar Miss Nalaar, any relationship with phoenixes?"

"I know I look stupid in this thing, but Luna assured me it's typical ceremonial wear for an heir to a tribe in this plane. Was she wrong?"

"How can he possibly not set the chair on fire? Is it a selective flame freezing charm? I have to know! Please Chandra, tell me!"

"Did zat turkey move to offer eetself to you, ma chère? Non, I'm sure I did not imagine eet stabbing eetself with your fork..."

"How can I possibly know if Handsome complies to the English pollution laws, ?"

"I noticed your mane is very well kept , what do you use? I can't seem to get quite that shine for my beard."

"I assure you, Cho dear, that I asked about female fire elementals only out of academic curiosity, and I most certainly won't ask Chandra here to introduce me to this Ashling she says she knows. No, you don't need to look up flame extinguishing charms."

"Vhy, I met Hermione in the library of course. Vhat do you mean vhat vas I doing in there? Hiding from fangirls of course."

Soon the dinner ended, and it was time for the opening dance. As the four couples moved in place, that is to say more or less where they had already been before Dumbledore made the table move towards the back of the room, Chandra glanced at her date and asked a question that had bugged her for some time now:

"Hey Handsome, you know how to dance, right?"

The fiery creature stared at her for a long moment before making an affirmative gesture with what passed for his left hand.

It soon became apparent that whatever fire elementals considered dancing, it wasn't the same for the wizarding world. It also immediately became clear that neither Chandra nor her date cared as he guided her in a series of sinuous, flowing movements that were somehow in perfect time with the slow music. The other couples, although surprised at the beginning, soon joined them with the standard steps.

By the end of the first dance, Chandra had to admit she had even enjoyed herself, enough to stay for the second one.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Once again, I'm not making money out of this and own no rights to any of this.**

CHAPTER 13 – Gifts given

"Fuuu, that wasn't as bad as I imagined!" commented Chandra to herself sitting at an open table after the second dance, while Handsome had gone procuring some refreshments.

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Hermione a bit breathily sitting next to her "Weren't you the one who categorically refused to dance?"

"Eh, it's complicated Hermione... It wasn't just not knowing the local dances or trying to look tough, dancing at the monastery had a deep meaning. This," she said gesturing with her arms to encompass the whole room "This is just frivolous. I wasn't sold on the idea. Thankfully, I never was the religious type."

The witch hummed to signal that she understood, but said nothing. Not that she could have since someone else spoke up.

"So our balls are too frivolous for you, Potter?"

Having come from behind them, neither girl could have noticed Malfoy listening in. Of course, neither of them was too pleased of his presence.

"For the last time blondie, my name is Nalaar," said Chandra turning around to stare at the boy clad in emerald green dress robes "And yes, there is no profound meaning behind this event, which makes it frivolous."

Both the blonde and his date, a pug-faced girl with raven hair and a silver ball gown that looked right out of a Victorian era drama, sneered at this. It was evident they didn't share the pyromancer's view.

"It's obvious that the finer details of social interaction are lost on you two," sentenced the girl haughtily "But what would you expect of a mudblood and a chimp who doesn't know how to dress properly?"

"The dress? Really? That's your best shot?" asked Chandra amusedly placing a placating hand on Hermione's shoulder "At least I don't look like a dog stuffed in tulle."

"That's enough Potter," said Malfoy, a slight smirk on his lips as he shushed his date "I'll have to demand reparation to defend Pansy's honour."

"Duels are forbidden, Malfoy," reminded him Hermione with an acid expression.

"But honor duels aren't," replied the boy with a superior smirk.

It was obvious he had been angling for this all along. The redhead found she didn't particularly care.

"I forbid them," sentenced a richly dressed woman that Chandra recognized as the history professor coming up to them "Or at the very least, I forbid _you_ to take part in one. If Miss Parkinson wishes to challenge Miss Nalaar for her honour, I won't stop neither of them."

She was tall, with two toned platinum and black hair, a demeanor that screamed high-born aristocracy and an imperious expression that made it clear that her words weren't up to debate.

Malfoy visibly deflated before sighing and saying: "Yes, mother. Come Pansy, let's get out of here."

"For real Draco? Let me show the... Her what a _real_ witch can do," said the Slytherin girl in a tone that broadcasted her confidence.

As she had said, the piebald woman did nothing to stop her. She simply watched the scene play itself out with an unimpressed expression etched on her face.

"She faced a dragon, you know?" pointed out Hermione to Pansy "She _summoned_ her date for the night."

"Rose Potter, heiress of House Potter, I Pansy Parkinson, heiress of House Parkinson, challenge you to a duel over my honour and my- Draco Malfoy's honour," said the raven haired girl heedless of her classmate's warning.

"His honour?" asked Chandra raising a questioning eyebrow.

"You refused him and summoned _that thing_ as date."

"Sure, ok," said the pyromancer shrugging "When and where?"

"The proper form would have you accepting trough a formula similar to what Miss Parkinson used to challenge you, but I'll consider this legitimate," said professor Malfoy cutting in before the Slytherin could say something foolish like 'here and now', suggesting instead: "In three days at midday, in front of the castle would suit both of you?"

Both girls nodded their assent.

"Good, I'll let the headmaster know, as well as your family Pansy. Good evening everyone."

And with that, both Malfoys and the Parkinson girl took their leave, albeit not all together.

Chandra was about to comment when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned around only to see Handsome offering her a cup of punch.

"That was unnecessary Chandra," said Hermione accepting a similar cup from Viktor Krum.

"Relax, I'm more worried about telling Ajani than by that kid."

"Vho? Something happened Hermione?" asked the Bulgarian in his thick accent.

Handsome looked utterly uninterested.

After the duel incident, the night progressed without any more stumbles. Chandra lent out her date to a couple of curious girls and danced with two or three guys that asked nicely –though she burned one's hand when he let it wander– and even with Fleur.

She eventually found both time and courage sufficient to tell Ajani about the duel. Surprisingly, the leonine planeswalker took it in stride: apparently such events weren't unusual in leonid prides. He still insisted in telling Jace though, who most certainly _didn't_ take it in stride.

_I know that subtlety isn't your strong suit, but couldn't you at least _try_ avoiding something so blatant? Wasn't the tournament enough?_ he had telepathically reprimanded her _We need to keep a low profile while recuperating, regrouping and preparing to face Bolas again._

"I know, I know, but the girl was asking for it, literally!" she tried to hold her ground "And sincerely better me than Liliana, no?"

Her fragile excuses had soon crumbled under Jace's barrage of accusations, leaving her with no choice other than listening to the mind mage's rant and studying the best way to getting back at him for treating her like a kid. He couldn't intrude on thoughts not freely offered, not hers at least, or he would have been treated to multiple scenes of her burning his cape. And a couple of spares for good measure, since he had like a dozen identical ones.

The morning after the Ball, Christmas day, found a scene that was sadly becoming routine for Hermione.

"Happy Christmas Chandra, would you put something on please?" she asked the very naked redhead in front of her.

"No thank you, I'm good," she answered sleepily "Why are you here this early?"

"It's Christmas!" said the witch "And it's ten!"

"The party went on till two yesterday, or rather today Hermione," pointed out the planeswalker rubbing some sleep from her eyes since going back to bed looked like a hopeless dream "And I'm positive you remember I'm not from this plane."

"I've already told you about the holiday, I'm sure."

"You didn't, now zip it and let people sleep!" came Liliana's muffled voice from her room.

Most suspiciously, her statement was followed by a very uncharacteristic giggle, which suggested that Fleur hadn't returned to Beauxbatons' carriage.

"Come in," sighed Chandra letting the other girl in "Let's get in my room. Tell me more about this Christmas thing."

"It's an important festivity on Earth, during which people give presents to family and friends to celebrate our ties," explained Hermione in the same tone that Jace used when explaining them some obscure lore "There are other meanings too, but those are more linked with one or more religions... And I have a present for you."

"Aww, you're sweet," said the still half naked pyromancer hugging the witch.

She then proceeded to tear the brightly colored paper off the package she had been handed. It contained a deep burgundy piece of cloth of indefinable material that left Chandra confused.

"It's... nice? Ok, I give up. What is it Hermione?"

"It's a swimsuit. Here on Earth we wear them to go swimming," explained the girl "It's charmed to always fit you, to resist wear and tear, and to light up at the given command."

"Aww, it's for the task! You're so thoughtful!" said the redhead smiling while she went to try the present on.

She had to admit that, while not particularly comfortable, the swimsuit looked good on her, especially when, given the "light" command, it lit up with a flame design that gave off a warm orange light.

"It's really nice Hermione, thank you!" she said hugging the other girl "I really need to give you something in return!"

"It's nothing Chandra, there's no need for-"

"I insist Hermione, now please sit back while I whip something up."

That said, the pyromancer took a couple of steps back and then, almost as an afterthought, pushed the rich looking carpet out of the way to expose the stone floor. She the knelt down like she had done before the ball, hands and hair ablaze, and forged her mana the way she wanted. A smallish gout of flames erupted in front of her as a piercing birdlike cry filled the room, then the fire went from bright yellow to a deep red with orange sparks and coalesced in the form of what was unmistakably a phoenix, albeit one decidedly more fiery than the headmaster's own.

"Here we are," happily said Chandra extinguishing her own hair and getting up, the flaming creature perched on her naked arm "Your very own pet phoenix."

On her part, Hermione did a very accurate rendition of a gaping fish.

On its part, the bird cawed and started preening its left wing.

"Just remember: keep it away from volatile materials and light its ashes on fire to bring it back."


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: I still don't own anything here.**

CHAPTER 14 – Punishing fire

It turns out that a source of gossip like the Yule Ball was too tasty of a morsel for the Daily Prophet not to take, despite it being Christmas and therefore a holiday.

"Oh listen to this one my little moonglove," mirthfully said Liliana to Fleur while they were having breakfast, or rather a brunch, in the Great Hall with Chandra and Hermione "Apparently, you're using your unnatural charm to seduce me and thus gain an unfair advantage over the poor underdog, Rose Potter."

The French witch rolled her eyes and commented: "Zey make it sound like you're both innocent little girls..."

"Oh, but there's something on Chandra too, or rather, on how she went and deliberately made a joke of the traditional Yule Ball... This actually sounds about right, you know?"

"No, I maintain it wasn't deliberate at all," weakly protested said redhead raising both hands in a pacifying gesture "There would have been much more fire had it been deliberate."

"Fair enough. They still sound absolutely bipolar. And look here, they've got something to say on Hermione too! A vicious, muggleborn scarlet woman trying to steal international Quidditch star Viktor Krum from poor, good reputable pureblood witches of Britain using her decadent muggle ways and love potions. Shouldn't this be in the fiction section?"

"Viktor and I aren't like that. We're just friends..." huffed Hermione taking her eyes away from where her phoenix was pecking at a strip of bacon.

"Speaking of being like that," said the pyromancer turning on Fleur "You and Liliana, how come?"

"I would have never guessed you were one for gossip," countered the necromancer buttering up a slice of bread.

"Eh, I'm doing Nissa's job in her place since she's not here to do it herself, I'm just a good friend," said Chandra shrugging "Anyway _little moonglove_, it's story time."

"Very well," said Fleur as Liliana huffed "We knew already who ze ozer was, of course, neither of us is hardly unnoticeable, non? But we actually first spoke sometime after zat merrow girl left. Ma chère was on the lakeshore, looking forlornly at ze waters-"

"I was simply lost in thought," clarified Liliana huffing "I do not look forlornly at anything, it's your overactive imagination talking."

"Certainement, ma chère. As I was saying, I was curious about her expression, so I got close and asked. And zat's it."

"What do you mean that's it? You told us nothing!" protested Chandra spreading her arms as if to show how much more could be said.

"We talked and got along well Chandra, there isn't always an epic tale with a knight in shining armor, you know?" replied the necromancer sounding less than pleased.

"I was wondering," said Hermione in an obvious attempt to sidetrack the discussion "Fleur studied English and now speaks it very well, albeit with an accent..."

"Zank you Hermione."

"So, how come you speak it so well and with no trace of accent?"

The two planeswalkers exchanged a look, then the redhead raised a hand, like a schoolgirl asking a question, and said: "What's English?"

The question stumped both witches.

"What do you mean what's English?" asked Hermione in an incredulous tone "It's the language you're speaking!"

"No, we're speaking the common human-kithkin language, diffused in any plane of existence that has either race, albeit with some minor differences," explained Liliana "It's one of the reasons some think the Multiverse was once one immense plane."

"You're not the first to ask us that question," said the redhead shrugging "It comes up pretty frequently."

"I zink you two broke her," said Fleur after watching the English girl do a nice rendition of a fish "I actually zought you two were using some translation spell."

"Wouldn't know how to cast one, my little moonglove," replied Liliana caressing the French girl's face "I told you my kind of magic is completely unsuited for such tasks."

"You told her what magic you wield, right?" asked the pyromancer in a muffled tone "I'd rather avoid you two breaking up over an Hermione episode."

"That so sweet of you Chandra, but I did tell her clearly just for that. Turns out her people are a lot more open on the matter than around here."

"Uh, well ok. As long as you're both happy..."

Christmas and Boxing day came and went, and soon it was the day of the duel.

Reminiscent of the morning of the first task, Chandra had expected for Hermione to panic and fuss over her, but the bushy haired girl did nothing of the sort. When questioned on the subject, the witch answered:

"Of course I'm not worried, you keep telling anecdotes of your fights around the Multiverse in your lessons. It's not that Parkinson is a weak witch, it's just that she doesn't measure up to some of your past opponents. Just please, try not to torch the whole place, ok?"

Voices of the duel had apparently circulated in the student body, for a good portion of all three schools' population was already standing in the snowy lawn when Chandra arrived. In the very middle of the expanse stood a group of green trimmed Hogwarts students, with Pansy and Draco at their helm.

"So you came?" asked the Slytherin girl sounding excessively surprised "I almost expected you to run away."

"I repeat Parkinson," answered the pyromancer crossing her arms in front of her chest "If you haven't got any insult worth listening to you should avoid trying."

Dumbledore, who had been standing close by with most of the other teachers, stepped closer and said: "I guess I cannot persuade you to solve the matter peacefully?"

"If she's ok with that, sure," answered the redhead shrugging.

"I'm not a coward like you, Potter. Surrender if you really wish to avoid this."

"So be it," sighed the headmaster, his shoulders dropping "I'll leave the field to professor Flitwick then."

The diminutive professor, who was somehow standing on the snow mantle instead of sinking in it, marched closer and, with his squeaky voice, explained the rules: "This is an honour duel, and as such you'll go on until one of you surrenders or is incapable of continuing the fight. You cannot cast any spell outlawed in Britain. Anything I've not expressly forbidden is permitted. Please get ready."

Pansy moved in a pretty standard dueling stance, with her wand arm drawn back above her head and the other holding a small dagger in front of her, while half turning to expose only one side to her opponent's spellfire. Chandra simply ignited her hair and donned her goggles. Flitwick took his own wand out and cast a circular shield to protect the onlookers from stray spells but large enough to give the two girls enough space for their duel, then he gave the starting signal.

"_Diffindo, diffindo, diffindo_!" immediately cried out Parkinson, her wand blurring through the motions of the cutting charm.

Meanwhile Chandra jumped to the left and, not wasting time to wonder why her opponent had cast three spells in the same direction almost expecting her not to dodge, she slammed her left hand on the ground while channeling mana in her right in the form of a fiery ribbon shaped like an infinity symbol. The ground near her hand erupted like a mini-volcano and a smallish column of molten magma flew in Pansy's direction.

"_Protego_!" said the Slytherin witch dropping her project of all out offense to summon a shimmering dome to stop the lava from incinerating her.

It worked, but the molten matter blocked her sight for some precious seconds. When she could see Chandra again, the ribbon floating near the redhead had grown visibly but the planeswalker didn't seem to care as she joined her palms and then slammed them on the ground to summon what looked to be a dog that had been charred to the bones and somehow still moved and growled, spewing ashes and burning cinders around.

Some of the girls in the audience screamed at the creature's appearance, but Chandra didn't care. Her opponent had decided that since the elemental wasn't attacking, it was safe to focus on her with another cutting charm. Big mistake. The pyromancer sent two spiraling, intertwined jets of fire ‒one of her beloved pyrohelixes‒ at Parkinson to gain time for the ribbon to build up some more mana.

"_Protego_!" called the Slytherin girl once again blocking the spell, but it was obviously a draining spell for her.

Chandra estimated that she could use it another two times, three tops if she didn't cast anything else, and smirked.

"Now!" called the pyromancer at her summon, spurring it to jump ahead, hot cinders spewing from its mouth, eyes and ribs.

She then grabbed the ribbon and molded part of it into a deceptively small fireball she hurled forwards.

"_Diffindo_!" called Pansy throwing a cutting hex at the beast, but the creature was deceptively agile and the spell missed, then she had to add an "_Aguamenti_!" to try to douse the fireball, which resulted into a heavy blanket of steam.

Chandra's smirk widened, her opponent was making things too easy. She used all the remaining mana from the ribbon and fed it to her next spell, turning the ground in front of her into lava and sending it rolling towards Pansy in a brilliant wave.

Apparently, the witch had dodged her summon, or she had killed it, since she stumbled out of the cloud of steam not visibly worse for wear. Unfortunately for her, she walked out right in front of the flame wave.

"_Protego_!" she shouted rising a shield that was probably her last.

The defensive spell, though hasty, did its job and the wave passed her without any real damage, but it was evident to everybody who had won the duel: Pansy was on the scorched ground, shivering and panting, while Chandra was juggling a smallish fireball and smirking victoriously.

"What will it be, Parkinson? Do you surrender?" asked the pyromancer placing her goggles back where they usually were.

Pansy's eyes searched for a solution first, then support from her peers. Most students weren't looking at her, hypnotized by Potter's bobbing fireball, the girls from Slytherin were nodding their heads to suggest she should give up while she still could, but it was Draco's reaction that caught her eyes: he was staring intensely at her. She had often seen that look: he was considering her worth, like a businessman considers a deal.

She knew fully well she wasn't beautiful like Greengrass, but her blood was very pure and such a thing had attracted the Malfoy heir's attention. But that was it, without a contract there was no guarantee they'd end up together as she planned, so she had to show she was worth his interest.

He minutely shook his head, and she knew there was no other choice.

She turned her head back towards her opponent and raised her wand. It was going to be the last spell, one way or the other, of that she was sure.

Chandra's eyes traced her movement, her smirk dimmed and her hand moved to throw the fireball.

"_Bombarda_!" called the witch pumping her reserves dry for that last spell, tracing the required movements.

Her spell, a whitish projectile, left her wand and met the fireball in midair but too close to her. The resulting fiery blast forced the pyromancer to take a step back, but that was it; Pansy instead felt the heat sear her outstretched hand and saw her wand turn to ash.

She had been right, it had been the last spell.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: I still own nothing, but I'm certainly happy you seemed to appreciate the duel. I hope it wasn't too unbalanced (considering both Chandra's and Pansy's skillsets and backgrounds).**

CHAPTER 15 - Back from the brink

Pansy awoke an unknown amount of time later to a stinging sensation in her right arm. She opened her eyes to look it up, but found to her dismay that she could actually move and use only the left one. What she saw though made her cringe: she was in the infirmary, laying on a bed, with her right arm done up in bloody bandages soaked in some foul smelling potion. Moreover, judging by the light it was well past curfew.

She raised her left hand to check on her eye when a voice stopped her.

"I wouldn't do that," said the obviously female voice "You're in a right sorry state now, touching your eye might... Well, there's little left to damage there actually."

She turned her head to see the woman often accompanying Potter, the one with the golden tiara, sitting on the bed next to hers and reading a tome of some kind. The fact that she was doing so with only the starlight filtering from the windows was apparently of no consequence to her.

"What do you mean?" asked Pansy feeling dread mounting in the pit of her stomach.

She didn't wait for an answer, she moved her left hand and placed it on her right eye, but felt nothing beneath the bandages. She had lost her eye. She felt the sting of tears pooling up.

"Now now, there's no need to cry," said the woman closing her book.

Purple, unnaturally luminous eyes bore into Pansy's only one as her skin lit up with what looked like a massive runic array, casting an eerie glow on the room.

"I'll ask one question to you, only one, only once. If you answer," stated the woman bringing up a hand to show she was holding an eye "I'll provide compensation your local healer is reticent in giving. Fail to answer and you'll stay disfigured. Now, why did you challenge Chandra? Hermione says you're not stupid, and you saw my companion in the arena with the dragon. Why face a superior opponent then?"

Pansy's mind raced, just like her heart. On the one hand she shouldn't tell, on the other the woman was holding an eye as if it was normal, it spoke volumes of how dangerous she was.

"I…" started saying the witch, only to be stopped by the other.

"Think a bit on it, Parkinson," said the woman twirling the eye between her fingers as one would juggle a marble "I'm no selfless Samite healer, you've got only _one_ chance."

Pansy paused. She had no guarantee that Draco and his father would keep their betrothal standing after her defeat, and with one less eye it was sure she wouldn't find a husband unless she begged the likes of Vincent and Gregory. She had no guarantee of getting her eye back either.

She decided to voice her concerns on this last topic.

"I guess asking you to trust me like that would be too much..." admitted the woma, tapping her free index on her chin in a pensive manner and looking upwards before focusing back on the girl "Very well, I'll restore the eye first, then you'll give me what I ask or you'll discover why you don't mess with Liliana Vess."

That said she got up and snapped the fingers of her free hand. Pansy felt her good arm and her head seized up by strong hands far too thin and cold to be human. Two other hands that looked made out of pure darkness tore the bandages off her eye and blocked her mouth. Without much ado, Vess grasped the eye, took aim and slammed it in place, the gesture followed by her runes flaring up for an instant.

Pansy felt an intense pain, far more intense than anything she had ever experienced and screamed despite the hand keeping her mouth shut, but as soon as Vess' hand left her face she could see once again.

"Now," said the woman sitting back and snapping her fingers again "Time to talk."

The cold grasp keeping her in place let her go and she fell back heavily on her bed, panting as if she had run from the common room to the top of astronomy tower.

She took a minute to compose herself and think things through once again. It didn't seem to bother the woman too much.

"It was Draco's idea," Pansy said staring at the ceiling as if mesmerized by it "He was planning on doing it himself, I just acted to salvage his plan. I would have faced Potter and forced her to show her hand. I honestly thought we were more evenly matched than that."

"Very good Parkinson, very good. One last thing, why would your boytoy risk his perfectly coiffed head to force Chandra to, as you say, show her hand? Who cares?"

This was the turning point. Pansy knew she could feign ignorance, the eye was paid for after all. There was no real reason to say anything more. It would most certainly be her undoing if anybody got wind of her talking.

"It was Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy," she said, hoping to be able to pull one over Vess, who didn't look exactly impressed.

"Very well," finally said the woman getting up and gathering her book "If you feel the need to add anything, you know where to look."

And with that, she turned around and, made to leave. She paused a second to add:

"Oh, and try not spilling the beans on who gave you that eye. The consequences would be… Dire."

* * *

It was only the following day that Pansy learned how Vess had pulled one over her: the eye, despite functioning, had a sickly yellow iris and looked to be terribly ill or old. It was only her crippling fear of the woman's last warning that stilled her mouth and hand.

* * *

New year came and went with much excitement for many at Hogwarts but not for Chandra and her group. It wasn't that they hated the festivity or anything, it was just a grim reminder of time passing. January brought along a wave of cold and biting wind and the return to routine for all the castle occupants. Only two notable events occurred.

The first was that Chandra, following a lead that the others had defined fruitless, found a way to face the second task. She had remembered hearing from Nissa that explorers on Zendikar, when no merfolk was on hand, used a plant to breathe underwater because biting on it released the oxygen it had stored. Her first instinct had been asking someone to procure some of that plant, but instead she decided to try a local option and went to the herbology professor, asking if a similar plant existed on Earth. When the woman refused adducing the turnament rules, the redhead knew she was on to something and asked Hermione and Fleur. All that was left after that was buying some Gillyweed via owl. Moreover, Liliana came to them a couple of days later claiming to have solved Chandra's need of defence underwater, but that it would be prudent to implement it closer to the task; unfortunately, in Jace's favoured cryptic manner, the necromancer said nothing more on the subject.

The second event that caused a stirring in all the castle was the return of one Ronald Weasley.

"Who?" asked Chandra staring at the trio of redheads embracing near the doors.

"A git, that's who," bit back Hermione trying to emulate a gorgon's gaze.

"Wasn't 'e ze little boy arrested for using ze dark mark?" asked Fleur, who had become a fixture of their group due to her relationship with Liliana.

"He is," replied the English witch in a tone that expressed what she thought of him "Got sent to Azkaban for that, but got released before time for good behaviour and, apparently, spent the last month recovering. I would have preferred him staying there."

"I sense no love lost between the two of you," commented Chandra humming, a spoonful of scrambled eggs halfway to her mouth.

"For some reason he was of the idea that I would do his homework despite the insults and the belittling he dished out daily, and when I refused he kept singling me out. He's just as bad as Malfoy."

"I already told you: you have to stand up for yourself, didn't I?" said the redhead shrugging and resuming her breakfast "Otherwise bullies will never leave you alone."

"I know, I know..." sighed Hermione crossing her arms on the table and resting her chin on them.

Her pet phoenix hopped closer and started rubbing its head on her cheek.

"Let's just see how it goes, ok?" suggested Liliana "Maybe prison did him good. Otherwise, we can just silence him."

* * *

Ronald Weasley succeeded in keeping his foot out of his mouth for a grand total of two days, during which he soaked being the center of attention for having been to Azkaban. Professor Lupin even used him as first hand witness for a class on dementors. Once most students had heard of his harrowing tale and weren't interested in talking to him, he went back to being the way he had been before.

One thing that essentially nobody knew of Ron was that he was very observant, he had to be to hold reserve keeper position for the Gryffindor quidditch team and to be as good as he was at chess. He simply never acted on those observations outside those two fields or the dinner table, but that was his choice too.

What he did notice though –and considering where he had spent the previous months it was perfectly understandable– was that many girls had matured in cute young women. He consequently decided that it was high time he did his mother proud and found himself a good reputable girlfriend since none of his older brothers looked to be interested in doing so. The problem was that no Gryffindor girl –for where else was he to look? _Everybody knew _that the Ravens were braniacs, the Puffs were a bunch of lesbians, and the Snakes were dark witches in training– would tolerate his presence for more than two minutes except the chaser trio who he knew were interested in Fred, George and Wood so no deal. He knew his mother disliked French women for some reason, so the cute Beauxbatons contingent was out as well. The Durmstrang contingent shared a table with the Snakes, so they were all _obviously_ dark except Krum of course: he was too awesome for that. This left exactly two women, one of whom was dating the French champion.

This was the reasoning that brought him to sit in front of Rose Potter one morning at lunch and give her his best pick-up line.

"Hey there, sweet cheeks," said a male voice Chandra did not recognize from in front of her "This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, want to go together?"

The pyromancer looked up from her scrambled eggs and bacon to see a lanky Gryffindor boy with hair as red as hers and a face full of freckles, so much that he could have been her long lost brother if she had ever had one. He was giving her a small grin and an half-lidded look that made him look decidedly stupid but that he probably thought very seductive. It was one of the rare moments she was alone, and after a long, sleepless night spent listening to Fleur's squeals she was in a decidedly bad mood. The normal castle residents had felt that –hard not to since her hair was smoking– and had chosen to a give her a wide berth. The guy in front of her hadn't, evidently, been so wise.

She took a moment to think if it was better to send the guy scurrying before she ignited the scene or viceversa. Meanwhile, she kept her glare trained on the boy, who seemed unable to get the message by eye contact alone.

"Ok, it's going to be a long day already so I'm going to be diplomatic and give you one chance," she finally said sighing "Who are you and what do you want?"

Or that's what she had planned to ask; instead, the boy got up saying he'd see her on Saturday as soon as he had heard the first phrase, leaving a slightly interjected Chandra behind. Deciding that going after the boy to disabuse him of his illusions that come the weekend would shatter anyway was too much work, she shrugged and went back to eating.

* * *

Later that same day, Chandra and Fleur had gathered their fellow champions into one unused classroom to discuss strategy.

"Ok, here's the thing," said the redhead sitting on a dusty desk "The idiots that pitted us against dragons want to take something or someone important to us and place it in the lakebed for us to retrieve. I'm not pleased with that."

"Nor am I," added Fleur "And since ze two of us are at disadvantage down zere, we decided to join forces."

"There is no point in competing anyway, since none of us is scored fairly and I didn't want to be part of this. So, do you want in?"

"Vhat do ve get from this? I can do this alone!" protested Krum scowling.

"I admit that dragon came a bit too close to roasting me... I'll join you two," said Cedric nodding "And you should too, Victor. The Black Lake is home to some vicious creatures."

"But vhat of the fame and money?"

"You're famous already, no? I personally care nothing of either, so you can just share everything equally as I see it," suggested Chandra, her eyes trailing a falling speck of dust.

The Bulgarian champion took a minute to ponder his options before answering.

"Very vell, a joint effort be it," he acquiesced "The tournament is meant to foster cooperation after all."

"Good," said the English champion smiling "Let's talk strategy then. I'm going to use the bubblehead charm and swim my way to the merrow village since I guess that whatever they'll take will be there. And remember warming charms, the lake is freezing cold."

"Liliana is providing defense means for me and Fleur, I'm not sure what exactly. Both of us are using Gillyweed, but Fleur is ready with bubblehead too if need arises. I can provide warmth and light."

"I vill transfigure myself into a shark, but I'm not sure hov vell that vill vork... Bubblehead charm is a fallback plan."

"What worries me now," said Fleur sounding decidedly scared "Is who zey're going to take."

"Vho? The clue spoke of vhat ve'll sorely miss," said Krum suddenly sounding less than confident "Right?"

"I'm friend with a merfolk girl. She said it can mean both a person or a thing in mermish," explained Chandra placing a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture "That's one of the reasons for this collaboration. They might not be able to use my family, but yours might end up in danger and I won't stand for that!"

"My little sister is visiting me," said Fleur visibly worried "I'm sure zey'll try using her or Liliana... I have nothing so personal to take in zeir place."

"They'll take Cho then," said Cedric nodding his head, a grave expression on his face "My father is ill, it's too dangerous to place him in the lake in February. The Ministry won't endanger a wealthy, well connected pureblood like that. Cho has no such strings attached."

"I'm not very close to anybody in Durmstrang, none of the delegation at least," muttered the Bulgarian visibly displeased "Luna and Herrmyoninni are my only friend here."

"They'll take my goggles if they know what's good for them," said Chandra pointing at said accessory "Liliana and Ajani are the only two of my friends and family they can reach, and I don't see Liliana going quietly. Not that we're that close either... Hermione maybe?"

She concluded with a shrug, as if it explained everything.

"It doesn't matter vho they'll take, ve'll save them all the same. Our teamvork vill save them," stated Krum breaking the somber mood.

"Victor is right," said Cedric clasping his fellow male champion on the back "We'll save all the hostages anyway, even if they force us to compete or if one of us gets incapacitated."

The four nodded in grim determination.

* * *

"Albus, are you sure it's a good idea?" asked McGonagall looking worriedly at her old friend and colleague "Living hostages?"

"My hands are tied Minerva," said the old man sighing "The Ministry is out for Chandra's blood, as they say, after the first task, and this grants a good spectacle in their opinion. The fact that Karkaroff supports them and they succeeded in convincing Madame Maxime has tied our hands. was pretty enraged too."

"Tell me at least there are going to be safeguards in place," begged the deputy headmistress.

"Fortunately, me and secured the right to set the protections for the hostages," he said conceding himself a small smile "I've already advised the merrow chieftain of the consequences of hurting any hostage through action or inaction."

"Let us be thankful for small graces then," muttered the old witch "Who are they going to be?"

Dumbledore sighed again.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: I'm still not making money out of this, nor I own any rights, except the right to thank you all for your continued support.**

CHAPTER 16 - Fight or flight

Ron Weasley was not a happy young man.

He had invited Rose Potter, _the_ Girl-Who-Lived, to Hogsmade to see if she could be girlfriend material, which was good. The bird had said yes, which was very good. But then she had not showed up.

He had waited two hours in the entrance hall. Two bloody hours! It was decidedly too much even for a nice looking bird like Rose Potter.

He decided that enough was enough and went to look for the girl. He knew from sure sources ‒Patil and Brown‒ where Potter's room was, so he stomped his way there, his rage mounting.

Once there, he found a surreal scene: standing in the doorway was the girl he was looking for clad in nothing but a pair of goggles, an armored gauntlet, a pair of boots and a Gryffindor red swimsuit, while Granger of all people stood in front of her, barring her exit.

His mind registered two fundamental facts: Granger had _obviously_ stopped Potter from coming to him ‒the redhead's attire was a non-factor in this‒ and Potter had a bloody fine body under that armor she usually wore. At this second observation, his mind stopped working and he simply stood there, staring.

"It's out of question Chandra, you cannot parade around in nothing but a swimsuit!" protested Hermione, her arms outstretched to bar her friend's exit from her own room "It isn't proper!"

"First, I'm not wearing _only_ a swimsuit," replied the planeswalker amusedly "Second, people opinions rarely interest me, though I have to admit that if that redhead's reaction is anything to go by I might consider taking a cape..."

Hermione turned her head to see one of her least favourite students. Her face morphing from an exasperated frown into a scowl, she asked:

"Weasley? What are you doing here?"

Chandra guessed her friend had tried to keep her distaste for the boy from dripping into her voice, but if his scowl was of any indication, she had failed spectacularly. On her part, the pyromancer didn't see the point of that much clamour.

"What are _you_ doing here, Granger? I'm here to pick up my date!" he replied, his cheeks purpling a bit in obvious anger.

"What?" deadpanned both girls, obviously surprised by his explanation, though Hermione sounded decidedly skeptical.

"Yes, Rose Potter. You know, the girl you're keeping from leaving her room," explained Weasley, his temper obviously worsening as his hand reached for his wand "But I'm going to put you in your place! _Slug eater_!"

With a stab of his wand, a whitish flash shot towards Hermione. She barely had the time to comprehend what was happening before it impacted with her belly. She suddenly started feeling something moving in her stomach, which only worsened the need to heave.

"You ok Hermione? I can't see anything wrong," asked Chandra moving in front of her as a human shield, her eyes trained on the scowling boy and the acrid smell of smoke filling the air.

Hermione fought valiantly, but in the end she couldn't resist and vomited a big slug on the ground in front of her, leaving behind a disgusting trail of shimmering bava.

Chandra's eyes hardened seeing this, and she stomped her way towards Weasley. While Hermione kept heaving disgusting slugs, her friend punched the obviously surprised boy in the face, with a very satisfying crunch too.

"Get out of my sight now, lest I decide to escalate!" she called before turning on her heel to assist Hermione.

"Why did you hit me?" demanded Weasley holding his bleeding face, his voice having gained a nasal quality "The bookworm is now out of the way, we can go on our date!"

Hermione didn't think that the boy could actually be that stupid, but apparently she was wrong. On her part Chandra, who had knelt next to her, went very still while her hair started igniting. The air grew uncomfortably warm, then oppressively hot as the planeswalker turned to stare down the sweating boy. Her clenched fists ablaze with orange flames, Chandra made to pummel the idiot, but was stopped by a purplish black wave of energy that sent her crashing into a wall.

"Now now dear, you're making a ruckus and ruining my Fleur time," said Liliana's voice from the door to their room.

She was garbed in a thin nightgown of purple silk that made it pretty obvious what "her Fleur time" was.

"He hurt Hermione," was the redhead's only reply as she got up, reigning in her magic and dusting herself.

"Then get her to that Pomfrey woman and don't bother me anymore," said the necromancer with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Chandra nodded and proceeded to get Hermione on her feet to accompany her to the infirmary.

Liliana let her gaze linger for a moment on her fellow guardian's rear. She had to get one of those swimsuit for herself since they apparently could make such a tasty morsel of one such as Chandra.

"Uhm, thank you for saving me," said the boy getting up.

Liliana turned her head to stare at him, a delicate eyebrow raised in question.

"You know, from Potter. She's hot but boy, she's bloody crazy!"

"Chandra? Unless you're referring to her flames I fear you're misguided," ruefully commented the necromancer tapping a finger on her lower lip "But that's beside the point. The real question is, what to do with you?"

"W-what?" asked the boy, confusion and dread warring on his face "What d-do you m-mean?"

"I have plans for Hermione," said Liliana looking at the ceiling as if looking for answers or suggestions "She's kind of a pet project you see? Turning her from plain, bookish, teachers' pet into someone I'd happily associate with, someone capable of seizing the world she lives in to make it better... But you had to stick your nose in my business, didn't you?"

The necromancer sauntered towards the redhead, her whole demeanor screaming sensuality, and yet she could see in his eyes the growing realization that the situation could only end very badly for him. She kneeled in front of him to be on his eye level, then placed a deathly pale hand on his left cheek.

"You better pray whatever deity you believe in that she comes out of this mess more determined to not be pushed down by _nobodies_ like you," she said in a honeyed tone that belied the threat it carried "Because otherwise you'll spend the rest of eternity wishing to have died in that prison. Scurry away now, little worm."

* * *

Fortunately for Ron Weasley, Liliana's prevision of how Hermione would have reacted to his attack proved accurate: the bushy haired witch came back some hours after the confrontation much more receptive to the necromancer's whispers about the Dark Arts.

That of course doesn't mean she raided the library's forbidden section or started practicing necromancy, but Liliana was a patient woman when the prize was worth the wait.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, the trio of planeswalkers was confronted by another strange tradition of Earth: Saint Valentine's day.

Fleur was briefly put out by not having received a present from her girlfriend, but it swiftly come to an end in the face of the trio's bafflement and Liliana's promises of a special evening.

The holyday also put a big target on Luna as Krum's hostage since the two of them officially became a couple.

What surprised ‒and flattered‒ Chandra the most though was the number of admirers that, despite her infamy on the dating scene, sent her flowers, small presents, or just notes to express their "undying love" for her.

Both Weasley and Malfoy sagely decided to steer clear of her for the whole day, which probably contributed in avoiding any incident.

* * *

"They took Liliana," stated Chandra sitting in front of Fleur, who was currently hugging a small clone herself for dear life "And since they're not here I guess Hermione and Luna too."

"I'm happy zey didn't take my little sister Gabrielle, but I'm scared for ma chère now..."

The smaller blonde, hearing her name, looked up at Chandra and, smiling and waving animatedly, chirped a high pitched "Salut!"

"Don't worry Fleur," said the redhead smiling and waving back "Liliana is far too powerful to have been taken by force. They must have stroked her ego or something, so she's surely safe. Too bad she didn't implement her secret plan _before_ being taken..."

"Ve'll have to count on our ovn strength then," stated Krum sitting next to her while a grim faced Diggory sat on Fleur's other side.

"If you have a plan to humiliate the Ministry again Chandra, I'm all for it," muttered the English champion "Our friends didn't choose to participate, this tournament is dangerous enough as it is!"

"I think that not actually competing is disruptive enough, but if anything comes to mind I'll let you know," offered the redhead with an easy grin, before getting serious again and looking at each of her fellow champions in turn "Now though, are we still on with our plan?"

A chorus of affirmatives was all they could trade before professor McGonagall arrived to escort them to the lake.

It didn't take long to reach the stage for the second task, and soon the four champions were left standing on the lakeshore waiting for the rest of the students to arrive with only their swimsuits and Chandra's magic to fend off the biting cold.

"I'm sorry my spat with the Ministry has you freezing your asses off too guys," she said as they huddled closer to bask in the heat she was radiating, her skin glowing a very faint orange.

"Nonsense, you're providing warmth to compensate," joked Diggory rubbing his arms.

"Moreover, ve nov all have our reasons to dislike the Ministry," added Krum with a short nod.

"Speaking of which, 'ere zey come," said Fleur pointing to the judge panel taking place while the fattish blonde whose name Chandra couldn't be bothered to remember started explaining the task.

They had one hour to get in the lake and save their friends and loved ones from the merrow village somewhere in the lake. Nothing new there at least, so they went with their plan.

Chandra was surprised to discover that having gills felt less weird than she expected, but the fins were very uncomfortable.

The lakebed wasn't anything like the pyromancer had expected: vast patches of kelp flowed in the undercurrents while shiny silvery fishes swam in large schools around what looked like ancient drowned ruins jutting out of the soil and the algae forests. Despite the scarce lighting, it was a breathtaking view.

Everything went fine until they reached the village: her projected warmth and light kept the dark and cold at bay while the others used the occasional spell to get rid of the predators creeping in the kelp forests, a group of smallish creatures that looked like the ugly lovechild of a goblin and a Shadowmoor's merrow. She had seen charred corpses more appealing than those things, really.

The giant octopus swam in the distance, far from their planned itinerary towards the center of the lake, and didn't seem to be acting threateningly so they paid little attention to it. Conversely, it left them alone.

Chandra had half expected to find Liliana awake and surrounded by an army of undead merrows once they got to the village proper, instead the champions were met with four unconscious hostages and lots of humanoids happy to see them leave, which the four humans did in due haste. Who knew that merfolks were magically sensitive enough to feel the Chain Veil in all its dark, corrupted repulsiveness?


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: nope, not a cent gained out of this.**

CHAPTER 17 - Fear

The return trip was much the same as the descending one, with the only difference being that the giant octopus had come closer ‒out of curiosity was Chandra's bet‒ although it limited itself to observing and occasionally snatch one of the repulsed merrow-goblin hybrids to eat.

The real troubles started once they all reached the surface. In fact, as soon as their heads got out of the water, the hostages awakened and things went south very fast: while Luna was Luna and stared around with eyes full of wonder, Hermione and Cho started panicking for some reason, but the worst one was Liliana, with her deathly calmness and her eyes scanning all around her. Chandra knew that expression, she had tested the necromancer's patience enough times to recognize it right away; she dearly hoped that whatever sweet nothings Fleur was whispering to Liliana would work, or that task was going to blow up spectacularly.

"And the champions all emerge at the same time!" announced Bagman's booming voice over the din of the students and guests "It's a race for the first place! What a performance!"

None of the four teens paid him any attention, instead they brought the hostages to the relative safety of the wooden structure where they had started the task.

Madam Pomfrey ‒who apparently was one of the precious few to see the obvious flaws of the task if her mutterings of freezing were anything to go by‒ rushed immediately towards them with warm blankets, which were completely ignored by Liliana in favor of marching towards the judge panel.

Three things happened at the same time: Dumbledore asked if everything was all right sounding as jolly and courteous as always, Ajani cursed in his mother tongue, but both were drowned by the Sharkan Vol lookalike demanding "What is it, girl?" with a sneer that would have made Malfoy envious and a tone that made it clear he didn't actually care.

Liliana's pale skin tinted purple as runes bloomed on it and shadows coalesced in front of her despite it being midday, forming two vaguely humanoid shapes that seemed to greatly scare the local judges.

"Why was I on the bottom of the lake when my answer had clearly been no?" demanded the necromancer positioning herself between her shades, fists balled on her hips and voice dripping contempt.

Her summons had silenced the gathered people, from the youngest child to Chandra and Fleur, so her words were heard perfectly from all the presents.

Before any of the judges can offer an explanation though, Hermione ‒who had been hugging her pet phoenix for extra warmth‒ added her two cents: "Your answer? I wasn't asked anything! Last thing I remember before awakening in the lake was leaving the Great Hall after dinner!"

With her words being echoed by a teary eyed Cho Chang, the attention of all the gathered turned towards the judge panel.

"I would like to know too," said Ajani in a level voice that still spoke volumes of his mental state "We had agreed that any hostage had to be willing to participate, since you were completely immovable from the idea of having them."

Dumbledore said nothing, but for once his expression wasn't jolly and his eyes didn't twinkle.

None of the other four offered any kind of answer, if one didn't count the Durmstrang headmaster's pitiful whining as he tried to crawl away from the shades.

"Answer me!" shouted Liliana making all her runes flare brighter for an instant.

The shades moved a "step" closer, towering over the guilty judges even more than scant moments prior.

"_Expecto patronus_!" came a female voice from the guest stands and a glowing, silvery badger charged through the air to place itself between the shades and their victims.

It was soon joined by an equally silver phoenix and Dumbledore said: "That will be enough Miss Vess, I promise you that I'll get to the bottom of this. Call back your dementors."

Liliana turned a withering glare on the elderly headmaster before nodding stiffly and snapping her fingers. The shades turned towards her, hissed something unintelligible and then vanished. The necromancer didn't wait one other second before turning on her heels and marching away, the crowd parting to give her ample berth.

"Go after her, she needs you," said Chandra to Fleur "I'll try to salvage the situation here, because I really fear we've got another misunderstanding brewing."

The French champion nodded and left after her lover. The pyromancer assured herself the others were all right then went to speak with the judges, who had been joined by Madam Bones.

Explaining the situation to the law enforcement's witch turned into a careful dance around the truth, something Chandra wasn't really good at, but everything turned out all right in the end thanks to the fact that shades were decidedly tamer when confronted with the dementors they had been taken for. Incorporeal undead they might have been, but at least they didn't feed on misery and human souls. Of course, the redhead edited the shades actual nature: she was brash, not stupid.

Regarding the judges, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, Crouch and Bagman had decided that those particular hostages were the only possible option, so they had stunned them ‒in the back in Liliana's case after her negative answer‒ and consigned them to Ajani and Dumbledore to apply the safety measures of the case. Needless to say, neither the elderly headmaster, nor the leonid and particularly not Madam Bones had been happy with the explanation, and the witch had promised consequences for all of them after the needed investigation.

With her job done, Chandra found Hermione again and went back to the castle to rest, sparing only a moment to congratulate her fellow champions and to thank them.

* * *

As practically everyone in Hogwarts, Pansy Parkinson had witnessed Potter's friend summon two dementors and threaten the judges with them. She had seen in particular Karkaroff's reaction, and it was no great secret that the man had been one of the Dark Lord's best in the previous war.

That night, Pansy pondered long and hard on her standing in the big picture. She knew she was only a pawn to Draco and his father ‒especially since they hadn't contacted her with the expected marriage contract after her disfigurement‒ so she wasn't going to delude herself thinking the Dark Lord would value her any more than that when he returned. On the other hand, she could get in touch with Vess ‒now that was a real dark witch, not a murmured name supposed to return from the dead‒ and come clean in exchange for some protection, offer her to be her eyes in the Snake Den, and maybe gain a decent place in her inner circle.

But was it a risk worth taking?

* * *

"Weasley, we need to talk," stated Malfoy's hated voice from behind him as the boy's two bodyguards blocked the way.

Ron turned with an insult on his tongue but the blonde raised his empty hands to still him.

"Peace Weasley, I'm not here to fight," he said before letting his arms down "I heard you stood up to the uppity mudblood, put her in her place."

"What it is that you want, Malfoy?" Ron asked narrowing his eyes "Yes, I cursed Granger, but I didn't do it for your pureblood idiocy."

"The why matters little Weasley," replied the other boy smirking "What matters is that you had enough spine to show her who's boss. I think I owe you an apology, I never thought you'd be so bold!"

"Yeah," echoed one of the two goons, Ron wasn't sure which one "Real big brass balls Weasley!"

"Oh, well, you know... It was nothing..." the redhead muttered.

"But then Potter ruined your day eh?" asked Malfoy sneering "That bloody whore thinks she's the best of the lot."

"Yeah... She's a hot bird, but that temper..." agreed Ron "And her friend too, one scary dark witch she is."

"Yeah," echoed the other bodyguard "That's one hot chick!"

"I have a bone to pick with Potter too you know," said Malfoy leaning closer, as if to reveal some grand secret "What do you say we make them pay?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, alarm bells tingling in his head.

"Relax Weasley, it'll be just a prank, some harmless fun to show them we're best," explained Malfoy raising his hands in a pacifying gesture "Nothing like you were thinking. We're Slytherin but we're not killers."

"So it's just a prank? What kind?"

"The fun kind," was Malfoy's chuckled reply "Fun for us, of course."

The other two boys ‒who had moved next to the blonde‒ chucked too, as if it was some funny joke. Then Goyle added a couple of pelvic thrusts to better illustrate the concept.

"We'll slip them some love potion," added Malfoy "I bet you can guess the rest. So, you want in?"

There was a voice in Ron's head, one that sounded a lot like his mother's, that kept telling him it was a really bad idea, but then he thought that once Potter saw how good he was she would surely become his girlfriend and his mom would be happy that at least one of her sons was working towards grandchildren.

So he smiled and accepted Malfoy's offered hand. What could possibly go wrong?


	18. Chapter 18

AN: I'm still not called either Rowling nor Garfield, so I fear I still own nothing.

CHAPTER 18 - Wild ricochet

The following day's paper headlines read as one would expect, denouncing Liliana as a dark witch who could summon hordes of dementors with just a thought and that was _therefore_ surely out to topple the Ministry. It also dedicated a grand total of two lines to the task.

When the necromancer read it she laughed out loudly –so much that many younger students scuttled away from her– and proudly declared that had she "actually wanted to, the Ministry would have already toppled like the house of cards they are".

From what they had seen, neither Chandra nor Ajani doubted such an affirmation. The leonid still cautioned her to keep things quiet unless actually threatened. It did nobody good to make an enemy of the local government.

The extraplanar trio had anticipated no more trouble from the authorities and only some minor disturbances from the students –especially from Malfoy's posse– but they hadn't accounted for the veritable parliament of owls that started dropping mail for Liliana. Some letters looked normal enough, while other missives were suspicious simply because they had no obvious sender, but the vast majority didn't even try to disguise its hurtful nature by being written on blood-red parchments or downright black ones that positively reeked of dark magic. The necromancer scoffed at such simplistic attempts and left the letters where the owls dropped them, not bothering to open any single one not bearing the Ministry insignia or some such markings. Not that she cared for those either, but she guessed those at least could be somewhat important.

* * *

One unforeseen consequence of the second task was that Hermione decided not to be pushed around by anyone anymore, be they Weasley or the Ministry. Apparently, Liliana's whispers did their job in convincing the bushy haired girl that she could be much more than just the brightest witch her age, so she decided to scour the library for anything that could help establish her image.

"I won't help you get into the forbidden section," said Chandra when her friend came to her for help "I could certainly do it, but the Multiverse could do without another dark mage running around."

"Come on Chandra, I need those books!" implored Hermione kneeling in front of the bed where the redhead had been sleeping "Think of all the knowledge! Think of how I could use it to better the world!"

"I'm pretty sure half of Nephalia's population justify themselves like that, and that city is crawling with mad wizards playing god with the corpses of other people," rebutted the pyromancer juggling a fireball "You don't need _that_ knowledge Hermione, you just need to stand up for yourself."

In the end Hermione went to ask Liliana for help, but she also decided to be careful with what she studied and frequently asked Chandra for inputs on the themes to avoid. The pyromancer wasn't a hundred percent happy with the outcome but accepted to be the voice of moderation –and wasn't that a worrying thought!– to Liliana's influence.

* * *

The last consequence of the task was that an unexpected guest knocked on their door one dark evening: Chandra was more than a little surprised to see the girl that had challenged her to a duel standing in the corridor and looking around as if she feared being discovered.

"If you're looking for a repeat performance I'm not in the mood," stated the pyromancer crossing her arms and leaning against the door.

"I'm not here for you Po-Nalaar," hissed Pansy scowling "And I'm not suicidal, thank you. I need to speak with your friend, Lady Vess."

Chandra raised an eyebrow at the title –it was actually possible Liliana was some kind of noble on either Innistrad or Dominaria, but the redhead doubted the girl could possibly know that– but shrugged, let Pansy in and pointed her to the necromancer's door.

"Be careful," said Chandra before going back to the couch by the fire and the novel she had been reading.

Pansy was mildly surprised to see Granger sitting on the other couch, a leather bound tome in her hands that didn't look like any one of their schoolbooks, and a phoenix chick napping on her head.

Deciding to ignore the odd sight, she knocked on the door. It wasn't long before Liliana opened the door with a mildly annoyed expression that instantly morphed into one of surprise.

"Miss Parkinson, what a surprise! Came to have a chat?"

Pansy nodded and the necromancer motioned for her to come in. The room was pretty dark compared to the rest of the dorm, with the fire extinguished and only a single candle lit on the mantelpiece. The woman draped herself on her bed with a sultry smile and pointed her a chair.

"I see we had a change of heart," she said tapping her fingers on the comforter "I'm not going to give you a better eye though."

"That's not it!" said Pansy shaking her head "I'm here to offer information and my services as spy amongst the Slytherin in exchange for your protection, Lady Vess."

"Lady Vess eh? It's been years since anybody called me that, you wouldn't believe how many... So," she said sitting up and leaning closer "Let's hear this information first."

Convinced that she had secured a place in Liliana's graces, Pansy spilled the beans on everything she knew of the Dark Lord's plan and who played which role in it, or at least all she knew for sure. She also forwarded a number of additional hypothesis on extra plans and people.

* * *

Since the whole Tournament was becoming a massive source of headaches for the Ministry, it was unilaterally decided by Fudge to anticipate the third task. The official reason had been that foreign dignitaries couldn't be present otherwise, but it was an open secret that Crouch and Bagman's blunders had tested the minister's patience, and Fudge –who hadn't been elected on sympathy alone despite being likable enough– had been fast to throw them to the sharks to side with Chandra.

The political machinations bored the pyromancer to no end, with her being more action oriented an whatnot, but what she really cared for in all that posturing was that the third task was going to be held on the twenty-first of march, less than one month after the second, which in turn meant that she would be confined on that plane for a shorter time than foreseen.

Sure, she was sorry to have to say goodbye to her newest friends, but nothing prevented her from coming back from time to time. She was going to miss Hermione in particular: the bushy haired witch was like an amalgamation of the best of her, Liliana and Jace, and had the potential to be a force to be reckoned with. It was like Samut all over again, albeit without planeswalker spark: blind faith turned into a champion of her people, the one true leader they had needed. Hermione was just like that, but she was also a better friend than any other Chandra had had in recent years except maybe Nissa. But Nissa was special and didn't count.

The pyromancer decided to put those thoughts away till it was time to actually say goodbye. She had never been one to ponder the future but rather a spur-of-the-moment kind of girl.

* * *

"I'm impressed Weasley, you actually managed to feed them the potion," said Draco staring down on the two unconscious girls "But why the mudblood?"

"That Vess woman was Merlin knows where with that Frenchie, you know, Delacour. And Potter shared the pastries with Granger, so..." he let the phrase linger, hinting that he had had to improvise.

"Well, we still got Potter, so I'd say it's good. Vess was just a bonus, really," said the blonde shrugging "You did a good job. Now all we need to do is wait for them to wake so the love potion will have taken hold."

"How long will that take? Potter's judge will notice sooner or later."

"Patience my friend, it should be any minute now. Just the time for some last minute preparations..."

That said, Draco moved deeper in the room.

His father had told him of the secret location and what to look for, and right next to the ugly tapestry with the dancing trolls he had found it indeed. It was a massive room, filled to the brim with clutter without rime or reason but still plenty easy to navigate. He had given the potion to the stupid Weasel so that if things turned sour he would be clean –nobody would believe him actually being in league with his most hated enemy in the whole school, after all– while he managed the rest of the plan. It was really a work of beauty how he had played everyone, if he had to be honest.

He reached his destination and uncovered the dusty, old cabinet, before opening it and placing a single green quill in it. The all clear signal.

"You done Malfoy? Potter's stirring," came the Weasel's voice and Draco turned sharply in that direction.

"It's too soon," he muttered worriedly before answering back "I'm coming!"

He rushed back, taking his wand out, and arrived right on time to see Potter open her eyes and bring her gauntleted hand to her head.

"Oooh," she murmured, obviously feeling the aftereffects of the sleeping draught "By the blazes Weasley, what did you put in those pastries?"

"_Stupefy_!" cried Draco before the girl could regain her wits.

If Pansy's duel had taught him anything it was that Potter was dangerous, and certainly not an opponent he could fight alone. Or with Weasley, which was honestly little better than being alone.

"Why did you do that?" asked the other boy getting red in the face.

"The potion hadn't taken, she must be resistant. Let's keep her asleep some more," smoothly lied Draco.

There was no potion of course, but he didn't feel any need to tell the Weasel.

_Now_, he thought looking back towards the cabinet, _If only the others would hurry..._

_Knock knock_

"Heeey theeereee," came the singsong call from behind the door "A little birdie told me that there was a party here!"


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: apparently some people were confused by Draco's ploy –he was very pleased to hear that– and as such here's a little explanation: Draco, who's not that monumentally stupid, used Ron to drug Chandra and Liliana with a sleeping draught, but the redhead got Hermione instead of the necromancer. The blonde convinced the redhead by saying they'd use love potion to have their wicked ways with the two, but that was never the plan. In reality, the little Slytherin used the vanishing cabinet to call reinforcements that hadn't still not gotten there when someone knocked on the door. How did Ron actually drug the girls? Potioned pastries, presented as a "please forgive me" gift. Chandra might be streetwise, but she can still be that naïve once in a blue moon.**

**So, hoping that I cleared all your doubts, onwards with the chapter! Of which I still own no rights whatsoever by the way.**

CHAPTER 19 - Dark salvation

"Heeey theeereee," called Liliana in a sickeningly sweet tone "A little birdie told me that there is a party here!"

It was needless of course, but one should never renounce a stylish entrance in Liliana's view. Appearances were a weapon by themselves after all, let the sheep scare themselves over nothing.

"Is that Vess?" she heard the muffled question from beyond the door, but couldn't quite place who it actually was the speaker.

"Shut up Weasley!" hissed someone else, and she sighed.

So it was just a pair of worms, she had thought it would be someone actually worth her attention.

"Oh well," she sighed while stepping aside before adding in a more normal tone "It's all yours."

The last line had been directed at the skeletal abomination standing nearby. It was vaguely humanoid, in the sense that it had four limbs and was bipedal, but the arms were visibly mismatched being made from randomly sized bones -like the rest of the creature- that she had scavenged from the kitchen.

The beast turned its head -the actual head of a roasted piglet, the only part with more than scraps of meat still attached to the bones- towards the closed door then exploded into motion, slamming into it with its deceptively thin body. The wood creaked and splintered under the unnatural resilience of Liliana's servant, holding mere moments before collapsing inward.

"_Stupefy_! _Slug eater_!" cried the two inside, but the undead monster proved resistant to such attacks.

"Tsk. What a pair of useless worms," dispassionately commented Liliana stepping into the room "Break their arms and legs, don't kill them."

"_Bombarda_!"

Two more spells impacted the creature, this time hacking off pieces from it, but the necromancer merely fed more mana into it, letting the monster regenerate. All the while, it hadn't stopped moving despite having lost an arm and violently slammed the other on the blonde's right one, breaking it badly.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" thundered an adult male's voice from deeper in the room, and a green light slammed into her servant's head, making it explode.

It did nothing to stop the creature, of course, so it proceeded to break the redhead's right arm.

Liliana turned to see a cowled individual with a bone white mask, two similarly garbed others behind him.

"I hate interlopers," she stated flatly throwing up one arm in their general direction, a purplish-black wave following the trajectory "Almost as much as I hate angels."

The first individual died under her spell, transitioning almost instantly from living human to little more than a skeleton. The other two showed good reflexes in jumping to the side. They showed though poor judgement in trying to cast again, albeit this time at Liliana. She merely flicked her wrists and one of the two –a woman judging by the screams– died as a spear of darkness impaled her while the last one got attacked and murdered by their companion's corpse.

The whole debacle had lasted less than two minutes, but by the end of it she was the only one still alive and standing. She briefly glanced at the three dead wizards before turning to the two crying worms that were struggling to drag their useless carcasses away.

"Pathetic," muttered the necromancer before walking over where Chandra was still lying unconscious and kicking her in the ribs "Wake up Brat, you can sleep once you're dead."

* * *

"Let me get this straight," said Chandra massaging her brow and wishing for a calming draught "Those two knuckleheads drugged and kidnapped two people, one of whom is your student too, they admitted to planning to either rape or kill the kidnapped, and they're walking away with a slap on the wrist?"

"A metaphorical one of course, since we had to debone their arms and legs to heal them," confirmed the eidolon of good mood that was Dumbledore sitting behind his desk "I'm certain the scare Miss Vess gave them will be enough."

"What of the fact that they let three terrorists known for being merciless into the school?" she tried again, knowing full well that it was a fruitless attempt.

"Would you rather the authorities be informed of the actual cause of their death and of what Miss Vess actually can do?" he asked back, still pleasantly smiling.

"Yeah, let's avoid any more meaningless deaths, on that I agree with you."

She didn't know if it was typical of the headmaster, but somehow he had swept the whole incident under the rug unless one of the involved went and spoke with either the press or the lawmages. Weasley's mother had been fine with it, professor Malfoy had agreed only because it was obvious that the scandal would have broken her family, and Liliana hadn't cared one way or another. The three dead hadn't been able to voice any complaints, of course. As the pyromancer and Hermione had been unconscious, it had been argued that everything they could tell was hearsay and wouldn't stick in court, so they hadn't protested either. In a matter of hours after such agreement was reached, everything was as if nothing had ever happened except for the two boys arms and legs, and nothing could be traced back to the jolly old man in front of her. Especially the suddenly-dead-in-their-homes purebloods that _most certainly_ hadn't been Death Eaters attacking his school.

Not for the first time, Chandra wondered just how much power Dumbledore actually wielded. She had met a wide variety of scoundrels and politicians in her life, but neither had been quite that good. Even Jace wasn't, and the guy could take blackmail material right out of people's heads!

"I'm happy to see you find no solace in what happened," he said before his countenance turned marginally more serious "Let's turn now to a darker matter though: ill fated it may have been, but young Draco's attempt was obviously well planned, much better than anything he had ever done."

"Yeah, he acts as his father's hand to do this dark lord's bidding," said Chandra remembering what Pansy had told Liliana "I guess it's one more of that Voldemort guy's names, right?"

"His servants and those wishing to stay in his good graces called him that, so it's more than likely him," replied the elderly headmaster focusing his gaze on Chandra, something hard creeping in his eyes "If I know Tom at all, he won't be deterred by a single failure. He'll try again sooner or later. You have to be careful Miss Nalaar, it is of capital importance that whatever Tom is planning doesn't come to fruition."

"You know something," was the pyromancer's reply after having studied him for a moment.

She was no Jace, but she was a mean cards player and could read people reasonably well.

"Oh I can say I know a great many things, but on the subject of Tom's machinations I'm sadly unprepared. What is certain though, is that it wasn't merely an attempt at your life: he wants you alive for some reason, and whatever it is, it most certainly is in Wizarding Britain's interest he doesn't get it."

"I'll be careful," she promised while attempting to get in contact with her telepath friend.

It was time to put their heads together and come up with a counterattack plan. She couldn't always count on Liliana's help to save her hide. Or on the necromancer's goodwill either.

* * *

Weeks came and went with the only outward signs of hostility on Voldemort's part being the dark glares the history professor kept throwing at Liliana. The woman might have agreed to the headmaster's little scheme, but she still felt entitled to some harmless animosity. The necromancer ignored her entirely.

Weasley had all but disappeared from the public scene and Malfoy kept well out of the planeswalkers' way, meaning that both did their level best at fleeing on sight.

Hermione had dived into her quest for self-betterment with all her might, even if she had moved away from dark magic due to having found the aftereffects of Liliana's magic more than a bit revolting. The necromancer was hardly concerned, since the bushy haired girl was still on the right track to be the untamable force she should have rightly been.

Pansy, having helped in saving Chandra and Hermione with her espionage, gained Liliana's trust and was thus promised a better eye to replace the dead-looking one she still sported.

Ajani took the kidnapping and subsequent events in stride: it was easy to forget it, but Naya's leonid were barely civilized and as such he found no qualms with the necromancer's methods apart from the general repulsiveness of death magic. In his own words, punishment was better delivered with claws.

In the end life resumed its normal course –for how normal it can be in a school of magic hosting a small army of teenage wizards, an international event and three planeswalkers– and the third task of the Tournament arrived.

A week prior to the actual date, Bagman took the four champions to the Quiddich pitch to give them the ropes of the last task: a race in a labyrinth filled to the brim with deadly creatures, beguiling magic and, of course, the other champions.

The maze itself had been grown by Hagrid and professor Sprout from some undefined kind of hedge, most assuredly magical _and_ fireproof. She was still going to try, but she wouldn't delude herself thinking that things would be that easy.

Fleur and Chandra had, once again, proposed to cooperate and the two male champions had readily accepted even if no innocent bystander was in peril: there was safety in numbers after all.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: we're getting to the end of fourth year and I still don't own anything.**

CHAPTER 20 - shadow maze

The evening of the spring equinox, as the sun started dipping behind the mountain ridge circling the valley where Hogwarts had been built, the four champions entered in the labyrinth in order of decreasing position in the Tournament scoreboard.

Chandra, having come last in the dragon task, got in last but found none of the others waiting as agreed. Surmising that they had been forced to move by something, she decided to try her hand at actually competing. Deciding against trying to burn her way to the center in a bout of sportsmanship, she started jogging onwards. She skittered beyond some obstacles –like the adorable blast-ended skewretts, which were certainly fireproof– and fought others face to face –like the huge spider that ended up a charred husk, which surely meant it _wasn't_ as resistant as Hagrid pets– while searching for the others and the cup.

She did find Victor, unconscious in a clearing filled with giant mushrooms of various size and colour. After burning down a couple of stalks that were ever so slowly slithering towards the young man she covered her face with her left arm and went in to drag him away. She then threw a shower of sparks in the sky and continued down a different route.

Around five minutes after leaving Victor, Fleur jumped in front of her from behind a corner, wand poised to cast.

"I'm vraiment desolee Chandra," said the blonde anticipating the other's question "But I need to win this to prove to ma Chère that I'm more interesting than Hermione."

"You know that Liliana and Hermione aren't like that, right? But sure, feel free to win, you know I don't actually care," said the pyromancer shrugging "Wanna join forces to get to the goal?"

Fleur shook her head and said: "Can't risk it, not after Cedrìc."

"Cedric? What happened?"

"We got separèe from Victòr after having to flee from the entrance. We passed some obstacles then arrived in a dark corridor. He turned around and tried to kill me, avec pas de raison!"

"So you stunned him?" asked Chandra studying the distressed teen in front of her "Or did you...?"

"Non, I just stunned him. Like I'll do with you. _Stupefy_!"

The red spell flew fast, but the redhead had been watching out just for that and nimbly dodged under it since the hedges formed a too narrow corridor to roll or jump to the side. That of course left her open to Fleur's follow-up –another stunner– that would have surely found its mark hadn't Chandra thrown a small fireball in its trajectory.

Using the flash from the small scale explosion resulting from the two spells impacting, the pyromancer ran backwards and around the closest corner, managing to just barely avoiding two more spells.

"I don't want to hurt you Fleur!" she called from behind the cover.

"Zen let me stun you!" bit back the other girl "_Bombarda_!"

"That's not a stunner!" shouted Chandra diving to avoid the blast, surely aimed to demolish her cover.

The corner of the hedge –and a good portion of the surrounding corridor– exploded in a large shower of dirt and burnt bits of wood, and Fleur peeked from behind the destroyed part. She was forced to dodge a spray of magma before she could capitalize though.

"Cut it out Fleur!" warned Chandra getting up, her hair already ignited "You know that I'm not famous for my restraint."

The blonde girl was lying on the ground, wand still trained on her opponent despite the fact that she was trembling. Wether that was due to fear or to the hole that the molten matter was eating through the hedge where her head had been, Chandra didn't know nor ask.

"Pour ma Chère," said Fleur stilling her hand and starting a stabbing gesture with the wand.

Chandra kicked her hard in the gut, then took her wand away while she wheezed and coughed. Fleur of course didn't let it go easily, but in the end Chandra was better positioned and more fit.

"You know, winning this wouldn't have changed anything: Liliana likes you and likes messing with people's heads. It's her nature," said Chandra spinning the girl's wand around her fingers "I was willing to let you win, to help you even, but no, you had to start throwing spells around..."

She heaved a deep sigh then leaned closer, offering her friend a hand. Fleur stared uncomprehendingly at the other girl.

"Come on, I still think we're better off helping each other," explained Chandra smirking "But don't throw another explosive spell my way or I'll burn you, ok?"

Apparently the organizers had thought that Chandra's pyromancy was the only thing they needed to account for: they had chosen a plant that regrew faster than she could actually burn it, and even magma-based spells or large explosions couldn't open viable passages for long enough to let a person through. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't planned for more _creative_ uses of those spells.

"Let me see if I've compris tous," said Fleur tilting her head to the side to show her confusion "You want to attack ze roots?"

"Yeah! Think about it: if we can't go through the hedges, we'll uproot them!" explained Chandra while wildly gesticulating like an excited kid, all thoughts of the recent fight forgotten.

"Ok..." the French witch's voice spoke volumes of her unsureness "How?"

"By exploding them!" said the pyromancer, a manic gleam in her eyes as she put on her goggles, before adding to answer the question painted on Fleur's face "I know I sound pretty bipolar, but hey, better them than you, no?"

The blonde could hardly debate that, so they got to work: she used strings of bombarda to clear the dirt away and damage the roots while Chandra cast twin streams of magma to separate the singular plants from those adjacent.

It took the two teens almost half an hour of continuously tearing down walls in a straight line and defeating or scaring various creatures –a sphinx, a manticore, a group of goblinoids with red hats, and a weird thing that looked like an infested black cloak that scared Fleur but that burned real nice– but they finally stood in a clearing with nothing else but a podium and an ornate crystal cup.

"So that's it," said Chandra replacing her goggles on her forehead and staring at the trophy dispassionately "Kinda tacky."

Fleur initially said nothing, but since the silence was stretching she asked: "Aren't you going to take it?"

"Why? I don't care for fame or money, my days as thief are dead and gone."

"But you earned it, you had me beaten!" protested the French girl, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"That's true, but you can still have it," replied the pyromancer shrugging.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, neither willing to concede to the other. It was a contest of wills, one that hanged completely on their mettle and beliefs. Dumbledore had said that in the maze they would have to face themselves, and that was it.

After the silence had reigned for a solid minute, Fleur said with all the determination she could muster: "Togezer. That's ze least I'm going to accept. If I took ze cup it would be an insult to my honor and your efforts."

Chandra sighed and looked up at the dark sky, then asked: "You're not going to give up, are you?"

She got no answer other than Fleur's hard stare, which was one in itself. She sighed again. Life was easier when you could solve all your problems by burning them down.

"Fine, let's go with your plan. But you're still getting the money!"

They each grabbed one handle of the cup and felt the sensation of a hook behind their navels as described by Dumbledore. What followed was a confused maelstrom of colours that Chandra couldn't really describe except with the world nauseating, but they appeared right out of the maze, on a raised dais where minister Fudge waited along the six judges. Immediately a jaunty fanfare started playing and the minister –after an initial moment of obvious surprise and uncertainty– went to shake their hands while proclaiming them the newest Triwizard Champions.

The night could have ended with a large celebration, much rejoicing and most certainly with lots of alcohol, like those kind of events always should; instead a voice from amid the tribune cried "_Portus_!". Before everything dissolved into another confused whirl of colours, Chandra saw a huge, glowing green skull with a snake coming out of its mouth appeared in the heavens above them.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: I just noticed that I missed my deadline… sorry about it guys, here's the chapter.  
Oh, and as always I own nothing at all here.  
**  
CHAPTER 21 - Dread return

Normally Chandra would have tried to land on her feet after the impromptu teleport, or at the very least to roll away from the apparition spot. Instead two of those nauseating things in a relatively short amount of time had put her stomach to the test, and it had apparently been found unworthy: that's why as soon as her feet touched the ground she collapsed on her hands and knees and heaved. Fleur moved away in the nick of time, minister Fudge wasn't so lucky.

"What a poor spectacle," rasped a voice not far from them, somewhat behind the pyromancer's shoulders "Kill the spares, Lucius."

Whoever was the speaker, he sounded like an extremely old or ill man who has exerted himself too much.

Many things then happened nearly at the same time: Chandra pushed on her arms and rolled to her right hoping to avoid at least the first salvo of spells, Fleur crouched and shouted something about the cup, Fudge looked up from his shoes and demanded an explanation before quickly getting down, and a different voice located roughly near the first said "_Avada kedavra_!" twice in quick succession.

The redhead rolled out of the way and got up on shaky legs to see two acid green spells missing both the minister and her friend, both of whom touched the cup and disappeared before their attacker could cast again. Said man –although it was hard to tell genders with the black cowl and skull mask the voice had sounded male– put down the bundle he had been carrying in his free arm and rounded on her. Deciding that discretion was good only when she wasn't risking her life, Chandra charged up a fireball in each hand and threw them in the disorienting trajectory typical of her pyrohelixes. Unfortunately for her, her spell snuffed out as the flames got sucked into a glowing red rune carved in the ceiling.

"Stupid girl, did you think I wouldn't have prepared for you and your flames?" came the raspy voice from the bundle while the man cast a series of stunner at her "That rune will absorb every fire spell cast in this room!"

It was bad news for the pyromancer: first and foremost because the number of non fire-related spells she could produce was close to zero, and second because there was no obvious way out of the room, which was a simple cube of unadorned, unmarked stone walls.

She carefully thought back to the voice's words while twisting out of the spells trajectory: the rune absorbed fire, which meant that she could _probably_ overload it with a continuous stream of flames given enough time and mana, but she doubted the man would hold still that long. This left her with two viable options: relying on what little unarmed combat she had gathered from Gideon's lessons, or using something so big that it would likely blow the rune in one go. No option was particularly attractive since the man could use magic _and_ was probably stronger and better trained than her, while the only spell she could think of that was definitely powerful enough was the Worldfire.

She dearly wished she could channel dragonfire like Sarkhan Vol –that was pretty much unstoppable, rune or not– before sprinting towards the man, right first held back to strike.

"Stop the girl, Lucius!" hissed the voice and the man tried again with a veritable hail of stunners.

She once again managed to dodge the spells, occasionally using some minor flares to safely detonate them mid-flight, and got close enough to punch the masked man in the gut. He bent over, but unfortunately for her she couldn't capitalize on it because the raspy voice hissed a "_Stupefy_!" and everything turned dark.

* * *

Chandra awoke to a stinging sensation in her right arm.

She opened her eyes and saw that she was in the same room from –tied with chains to a column of some sort that had most certainly been aptly conjured– and that a large stone cauldron had been added to it. While a foul-smelling concoction bubbled in the basin emitting large plumes of acrid smoke, one cowled individual tended to the fire while another held the bundle and a third one was carving a bloody line in her arm after having removed her gauntlet.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given. You will renew your son," chanted the man holding the bundle –the one she had punched judging by the voice– before levitating a human femur from a bag on the floor onto the cauldron.

The potion turned bone white and stilled its bubbling, but the smoke intensified, which made the room even less ideal for that kind of practice.

"Flesh of the servant, freely offered. You will revive your master," continued the one manning the fire –another man, maybe older than the other one– before taking out a silver knife and cutting off his own left hand.

The potion turned a murky brown and bubbled furiously.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken. You will resurrect your nemesis," added the third one –a woman this time– before scuttling back to the cauldron and dropping in it what blood had been on the knife.

The potion turned the color of tar for a brief instant, then it cleared and started to simmer and the bundle pronounced it was ready. The first man stepped closer and carefully let the contents of the bundle –a rachitic little boy with deathly pale skin and no hair– fall into the potion.

The concoction started to bubble furiously, more than ever before, forcing the three to take a step back to avoid any flying droplets. Then the smoke turned bone white and became so thick it obscured the view. The trio started to share worried murmurs only for a tall and lean figure to emerge from the cauldron.

"Robe me," commanded the same voice that had come from the bundle, albeit sounding less sick and raspy and more like a hiss.

The woman moved immediately to give the figure a dark robe and a pale wand. As the smoke dissolved, Chandra could see a man with the same general features of the child in the bundle but decidedly healthier. He had a regal bearing, like he expected everyone to adore him as a king or a god, and judging from the way his servants grovelled at his feet it was kind of understandable. He reminded her of Bolas, if she was being honest, albeit on a less grandiose scale.

"Finally face to face again, Potter," said the man staring at Chandra with a triumphant smirk "You'll have to excuse me why I tend to my servants. Amycus, your hand."

The man who had cut off his hand held up the hastily bandaged stump and his master conjured a silver hand for him before demanding the other arm. He then exposed a dark tattoo and pressed his wand on it. The man screamed –which was telling considering he had barely whimpered when cutting off his hand– but it lasted barely ten seconds, then similarly garbed figures started appearing and kneeling in front of the pale man.

In that moment Chandra finally recalled why the dark cowls and mask had given her the impression of being important: it was the same of the trio Malfoy had called, it was the garb of Death Eaters, Voldemort's servants. Which in turn meant that the pale man was the dark wizard himself, back from the dead.

While Voldemort made his displeasure known to his servants for not coming to look for him in over a decade –and admittedly, Chandra could kind of understand both his feelings and why his followers did what they had done– the pyromancer was thinking how she could escape the situation she was in.

The rune was still up for what she knew, and even if it wasn't melting the chains would likely kill her. Even worse, they had removed her gauntlet, which meant that any spell she cast was liable to escape control and raze a good portion of the surrounding area, herself included. She tried feeling for an outward path, but found that the place had been warded similarly to Hogwarts, so no planeswalking either. Her only real chances were hoping that Voldemort would do something monumentally stupid like giving her a fighting chance, or hoping Fleur and Fudge sent reinforcements.

"But now enough with our reunion," said the dark wizard catching the girl's attention "We're making our guest wait. Rose Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, the only person to ever defy me and live to tell the tale."

As his minions mutely bore watch, he stepped out of the cauldron and moved towards her with deliberate calm.

"The name's Chandra Nalaar, I tire of repeating myself," said the redhead trying her best not to snarl.

"Of course dear, because you're much more than what you were thirteen years ago. You're a capable young woman, allied with a dark witch and supposedly able to walk through dimensions," listed the man stopping close enough that she could stare into his ruby irises "I hunger for your secrets, but there's a question that I see coursing through my companions minds: who is stronger between us? They need to see with their eyes, that's why I'm going to free you, to duel you, and to finally demonstrate my superiority."

That said, he swished his wand and the chains disappeared in a puff of dark gray smoke, letting her free.

"Unless you want this to be a stain on your honor, I'll need my gauntlet and that rune deactivated," said Chandra using the barest trickle of her power to seal the wound in her arm.

"Indeed, what's worth a victory against an unarmed opponent?" said Voldemort tapping his chin with his own wand "Very well Chandra Nalaar, gather your focus and I'll disable the rune. You all, stun her if she tries backstabbing me, otherwise don't interfere."

The pyromancer cautiously moved to her gauntlet, letting her eyes dart between the dark wizard and his silent minions. She carefully strapped it back in its place and checked the mobility while Voldemort cancelled the rune on the ceiling.

"The preparations are complete, time to meet your fate!" he stated flourishing a small bow.

Remembering it to be ritual or something from her duel with Pansy, she imitated him albeit more stiffly.

"The niceties are done too. Lucius, give the signal," ordered Voldemort bringing the wand in front of his face, tip to the ceiling.

Chandra, knowing it to be the moment to get serious, donned her goggles and ignited her hair.

The man she had punched earlier gave the signal to begin and his master exploded into motion, casting silently a barrage of multicolored spells. The pyromancer dropped to one knee and slammed both palms on the ground, summoning a wall of bright orange flames as high as the room was tall and just as wide, then rolled to the left. Some of the colorful projectiles were stopped, but some pierced the wall to hit where she had been standing. She didn't wait to see what he would do and instead made a pushing motion that sent the wall crashing ahead while gathering mana for something bigger.

The wall collapsed on itself and changed into a flaming snake that Voldemort directed her way like an opera conductor. Chandra retaliated with a compressed heat ray that pierced the construct to get the dark wizard, who spun on his heel to teleport some meters to the left, his wand already slashing down.

"Avada kedavra!" he cried sending a singular emerald green spell Chandra's way.

She jumped to the side and slammed a fist on the ground to create a small geyser of lava that curved its plume to hit him. Sure that it would miss, she added a pyrohelix aimed slightly left and right of him.

Like he had done earlier, Voldemort teleported out of harm's way to the other side of the room already screaming: "Crucio, crucio, crucio!"

Three angry red spells flew her way leaving no room for a dodge so she summoned a pyrophoenix to take the hit for her, which it did before cawing piteously and bursting into flames.

"I must admit girl I am impressed," said Voldemort without dropping his ready stance "You can match me spell for spell like only Dumbledore ever could, but you're not burdened by his meaningless morals. It would be a waste to kill you, so join me."

As he made his offer, he dropped his guard to spread his arms, an almost universal gesture to communicate his intent.

Chandra weighted her options: she could keep on fighting till either him or his minions killed her, or pull a Liliana and fake accepting his offer. Actually accepting was out of question: from the little she knew of him, his ideals were too distant from hers, so no dice.

She was spared actually giving an answer when a loud bang echoed from somewhere above the ceiling and dust fell from it.

"My Lord, the wards have collapsed!" said the one identified as Lucius in an obviously scared tone "Someone is attacking!"

"Go and kill whoever dares interrupt me," ordered the dark wizard snarling before turning his attention back to Chandra "Your answer girl?"

She threw a fireball as big as he was tall in his direction, then planeswalked away in a brilliant explosion of flames.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: I just came back from France, I'm too tired to own any of this**.

CHAPTER 22 - Deploy the Gatewatch

One floor above the chamber where Chandra had duelled Voldemort, standing in front of Malfoy Manor, Ajani and Gideon watched calmly as Nissa, staff held in front of her and mantle flapping wildly behind, directed a massive construct of vines and roots of vaguely humanoid shape to slam violently and repeatedly on the shimmering dome surrounding the place until it collapsed with a thunderous rumble.

Scant moments later, Chandra appeared next to them in a fiery burst, panting and bent over. Planeswalking out of the plane then back in had obviously taken a toll on her, and after the day she had had it was starting to get too much.

"Voldemort's alive," she said gasping for air "He's got at least twenty minions in there. Oh, hey Gideon."

The soldier placed his left hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly: "Rest now Chandra, we'll deal with them."

He had barely finished speaking that a series of _crack!_ announced the arrival of everyone that had been in the ritual chamber.

"Who dares disturb Lord Voldemort?" demanded the man standing at the helm of his troops.

He was probably an intimidating figure to the populace of Wizarding Britain, but none of the planeswalkers were impressed; case in point, Nissa's construct tried to swat him like a pesky fly. The dark wizard teleported to safety, but the closest six minions weren't as quick or smart.

"Attack you fools!" called Voldemort casting a large flame spell at the plant creature.

As the behemoth started getting consumed by animal-shaped gouts of flames, both sides started moving: the Death Eaters started casting a barrage of multicolored spell, Gideon and Ajani charged onward enshrouded in golden light, while Chandra offered a some covering fire. Nissa dismissed her summon to avoid collateral damage while it trashed; with the plant creature gone, Voldemort was free to direct his attention to the fight and start casting the same green spell he had been using earlier, but so was the elvish planeswalker, who stabbed her staff into the ground and summoned a number of smaller quadruped vine constructs to fight. With the disparity in numbers levelled a bit, it soon became apparent that the Death Eaters were more used to shock tactics and short incursions against inferior or scared opponents rather than fighting experienced warriors and agile elementals. Even Voldemort's obvious ability, power and ruthlessness couldn't even the odds, and in the end he had to call for a retreat to cut his losses.

"Today I spare you Potter, but next time you'll die!" he threatened before disappearing in a plume of black smoke, soon followed by his remaining minions.

* * *

The return trip to Hogwarts was a happy affair –meeting back all her friends after the battle with Bolas was just so much better than Jace's reassurances– but would have been very slow going: they were all tired after the battle, and Chandra in particular, and Malfoy Manor was in the Wiltshire. Hadn't it been for the timely –or untimely depending on points of view– arrival of the law enforcement wizards, they would have needed weeks to get back.

Apparently they had taken so long because some bureaucrat had been trying to push charges against Chandra for kidnapping Fudge or some other nonsense, and since the minister had passed out upon getting back there had been no one to stop them –nobody had seemed to be willing to listen to Fleur either for being French or not completely human– until Fudge had woken up and set things in motion.

Unfortunately that was where the good news ended: Fudge was under the illusion that his good friend and confidant Lucius Malfoy couldn't possibly be in cahoots with terrorists –because Voldemort was dead and nobody could change that, obviously, so those were just some rabble playing dress up– and that it had all been a huge misunderstanding, which in turn meant that the populace at large was willing to accept that version over Chandra's, and even Dumbledore's warning mattered little.

That left only one problem:

"What do you mean with we should stay?" asked Liliana arcing a delicate eyebrow while caressing Fleur's head "The Tournament is done, nothing's holding us here anymore."

They had all retired in the planeswalkers quarters and had barely been seated a minute before Chandra had stated her conviction about not leaving that plane just yet.

"Voldemort is the same as Bolas, we swore to protect the Multiverse so we should deal with him while we're already here," tiredly explained the redhead from where she was sitting collapsed against Nissa's shoulder.

The elf didn't seem remotely perturbed by the close contact and kept instead a slender arm around her friend's shoulder.

"He's not a planeswalker or otherwise capable of spreading his influence," said Ajani in a contemplative tone from where he stood next to the fireplace "Nor is he a world ending threat like the Eldrazi."

"I agree, the locals should handle him," concurred Gideon while reclining against the wall, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest "We can hardly ignore the Dragon in favor of this, especially now that Jace is finally free from Ixalan. We need to gather more allies."

"I hate to contradict you Chandra, but they are right," said Nissa tightening the hug minutely "We shouldn't interfere in this any more, he is not that vast of a threat."

"Last time he was active," interjected Hermione interrupting her worried fretting over Chandra's health to look up at them "He had practically conquered Britain until Chandra stopped him. The people were barely resisting thanks to the wounds from the previous war with Grindlewald. It's happening again, and if he wins there will be not much left."

"What do you mean, young Hermione?" asked the soldier showing that she had his undivided attention "As powerful as he is, he can hardly face the world united."

"That's the thing, nobody is going unite! Chandra and Kiora told me of Zendikar, of how different races joined together to fight and win. Here it will never happen. Voldemort is seen as a British problem, so Britain will have to deal with it. Once we fall, it will be another nation's problem to solve, then another and then another. And that's without considering that Voldemort plans on eradicating a large slice of the world's population."

"That's a pretty dire picture you paint," allowed Nissa frowning "Are you sure your people won't rally together in the face of evil?"

"Non," answered Fleur shaking her head "And even if zey tried, You-Know-Who's blood supremacist movement has sympazisers in every nation zat would prevent it, or worse, support him."

"You can ask Dumbledore for confirmation," chipped in Chandra "He's some planar big shot apparently. He's also convinced I'm the only one that can stop Voldemort."

"And why is that?" asked Liliana with a bitter laugh "He may be powerful by this plane's meager standards, but he's got nothing on Tezzeret or the likes. Anyone of us could easily take him to task."

Chandra briefly debated not answering before glancing in Ajani's direction and explaining about the prophecy. Foreseeably, this roused various worried or incredulous reactions.

"It matters little if it's a true prophecy or just a prop," said the leonid grabbing Elspeth's mantle in one paw and stilling the debate on the merit of prophecies "If Dumbledore believes it to be true, then he'll try his best to keep our Little Flame here. It's better to have him in our camp rather than opposing two of the most dangerous individuals on this plane at the same time."

"Agreed," assented Gideon nodding "We all know how it goes if we try to work against the plane's people."

"And what about Jace and Bolas?" asked Nissa stroking Chandra's hair "We cannot forget them either."

"I need to stay, but you all don't," said Chandra sitting up a little straighter "Go, meet up with Jace, keep an eye on Bolas, and if needs be we can rally pretty fast."

"Someone should stay with you anyway, there's safety in numbers after all," said the soldier grabbing his own chin in a pensive fashion "I could-"

"I'll stay big man," interjected Liliana waving a dismissive hand "Despite my wish to hunt down the last holder of my pact and the fact that I don't believe in prophecies, I already have a spy in place and my minions work well against their magic. Also, this people's wards block direct planeswalking so I'll be safe long enough to call Jace if Bolas comes seeking me."

"I bet Fleur has nothing to do with it, right?" asked Hermione smirking.

"We've been a terrible influence on you Hermione," considered Chandra with a laugh.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: new week, new chapter, same old disclaimer –that is to say that I own nothing here– but here's something different: some explanations! A couple of my readers found that Chandra & co. should have easily steamrolled Voldemort and his merry little friends. First of all, while **_**some **_**planeswalkers are indeed that powerful, not everybody is a one-man-army; planeswalkers are not living gods anymore after the Great Mending, they're just long lived spellcasters. And if Tom wasn't somewhat dangerous for Chandra it would make a very dull story. Nor can our walkers simply march across Britain trying to find and kill Tommy boy: alone it would take them a literal lifetime, and with the help of, say, an undead army courtesy of Liliana it would surely attract the attention of both the Ministry and the muggles. And last but not least, Voldemort still has some of his horcrux lying around, so killing him would actually do very little apart setting his plans back some.**

**Hopefully this clarifies my choices, have a nice read.**

CHAPTER 23 - Fortuitous find

"What in the blazes? This thing bit me!" came an angry voice from outside before continuing after a brief pause "You could have told me sooner!"

The portrait of Walburga Black stirred back to its sort-of-life, listening intently. Whoever it was –a young woman judging by the voice– had just been tested for their blood by the doorknob and found to be the owner of the townhouse. That or the wards had thoroughly failed, but either way she was about to meet the screaming girl.

The front door opened and in came four people: three were teenaged girls –a redhead in chainmail armour and two brunettes, neither dressed as a proper witch should– accompanied by none other than Dumbledore himself. Warburga's expression soured visibly: she had no love lost for the elderly man and his liberal politics. Moreover, she could smell that of the three girls only one had some measure of Black blood and that the others weren't pure. Not that she had expected anything else from that old geezer. She decided to make her displeasure known.

* * *

As soon as she had laid her eyes on the dusty entry corridor, Chandra had thought the place was a dump. She had honestly seen ruins that were more homely. She hadn't been expecting a manor ready to house her when the headmaster had talked about her owning a house, but neither the disaster in front of her. Then some portrait started screaming at the top of its painted lungs about impure blood, old goats and "sullying the sanctity of her house", and the pyromancer's annoyance had peaked. She stomped closer to the offending piece of furniture –which incidentally was the only clean thing in the hallway, not that she particularly cared at that juncture– igniting a fist and placed it scant centimeters from the painted face. The portrait shut up pretty fast.

"I like animated portraits but I'm sure I can live without one so noisy in _my_ house," the redhead had said in no unclear terms.

Once the painting didn't resume its shrill screaming, she nodded and extinguished her fist.

"Is it normal on this plane for people to argue with their furniture, Hermione?" asked the third female of the group, a thin, short woman in a dark green dress that exposed lots of pale skin crisscrossed by dark tattoos.

"No Nissa," replied the native witch with fond exasperation "But I guess if anyone can, that would be Chandra."

"You're probably right," chuckled the elf.

"Very funny you two," replied the redhead before turning towards the only male present "Since when has this dump been abandoned?"

"It's not abandoned!" protested the portrait with obvious indignation but a more appropriate tone of voice "Kreacher cares for the house perfectly!"

"Kreacher?" asked Chandra raising an eyebrow.

With a soft popping sound, a small, hunched, goblinoid creature with huge floppy hears appeared in front of the newcomers. He –or at least the pyromancer thought the creature was male– was dressed in rags as filthy as anything else in sight and looked to be in just as bad state himself. He briefly stared at her with his large, watery eyes filled with suspicion before turning towards the painting and asking in the broken common that goblin everywhere in the Multiverse seemed to speak if "mistress" had called him. The portrait explained that Chandra was the new owner of the house and, therefore, his too.

Meanwhile Hermione had been inquiring with Dumbledore about the unknown creature. The pyromancer heard Nissa's indignation at hearing that Kreacher was an elf _and_ a slave, and that such arrangement was incredibly common amongst wizards in that plane. It got even funnier when the animist tried to hug the house elf, tears in her eyes at his situation, only for him to teleport out of her embrace screaming.

"Filthy half-breed assaulting Kreacher!" he said reappearing closer to the portrait before looking at Chandra, malice shining in his eyes "Should Kreacher expel the filthy half-breed, the blood traitor and the disgusting mudblood from the house, young mistress?"

That rubbed everyone present the wrong way, the pyromancer in particular. She fixed Kreacher with a hard glare.

"You should be caring for the house, yet I see only a filthy dump," she said gesturing around "To make it all worse, you insult my friends and hope I'll give you permission to kick them out? I don't think so. You're some kind of slave, right? Then go away, you're free. I don't want to ever see you again."

Kreacher started crying and pleading not to be dismissed. The portrait protested that the elf was a good servant and there was no reason to free him. Dumbledore explained that to dismiss an house elf one needed to give them an article of clothing, but also that they need the bond to survive. Hermione and Nissa didn't join the general din, saving Chandra from a far worse headache. Once fed up with all the noise, the pyromancer created a small detonation between her hands to silence the other three.

"What a mess," she commented once quiet had been restored "So if I free the little guy he dies?"

"Not unless someone else hires him," calmly replied Dumbledore "If I may-"

"No oneses hire disgraced Kreacher," lamented the pitiful elf holding his head in his hands and cutting the headmaster short "Kreacher is too old."

"Very well," said Chandra rubbing her brow "You may stay Kreacher, but I want this place cleaned up and I don't want to hear any more insults about my friends. Have I made myself clear?"

* * *

After the debacle with Kreacher, the quartet continued exploring the house, which turned out to be much larger on the inside than one could have suspected from the outside. The only room free of grime and dust was the kitchen, where Kreacher had built his lair in an unused cupboard, all the others were completely uninhabitable, which didn't bode well for Chandra's summer perspectives.

They made an interesting discovery though: in the drawing room, amid piles of junk that the pyromancer was of the idea of torching, Nissa felt something she defined "so dark it's on par with Liliana's veil." It was a golden locket bearing a green snake effigy and one of the least tasteful accessories Chandra had ever seen –a list that included Bolas' false beard– but Dumbledore seemed really happy to see it though, so she guessed it was one of those phylactery thingies. The headmaster had stressed the importance of finding and destroying those things after Voldemort's resurrection, so his satisfaction was completely understandable.

* * *

Since Chandra's new house had plenty of space, was protected against uninvited guests by powerful wards and was much cleaner thanks to Kreacher's continued efforts towards not losing his job, the redhead found herself playing host to the secret meetings of the resurrected Order of the Phoenix, a clandestine group out to thwart Voldemort's plans

It was an heterogeneous group, but the vast majority of the members were pretty old; if one excluded the planeswalker herself, the youngest members were the two aurors, a teenager girl with pink hair and a tall, dark skinned man that could have been thirty or so. The members also seemed to come from various path of life: some were or had been in the law enforcement, others she recognised as professors from school, but there were also normal civilians and even a shady character that just _had_ to be a criminal. Chandra felt almost like she was back on Kaladesh with her mom and the renegades, or on Amonketh helping Samut's dissidents.

Almost.

"You cannot really be suggesting we just wait and see!" protested Chandra as an halo of smoke was raising around her head for the frustration.

The meeting had been going on for a while and she could scarcely believe her ears: this wizards wanted to lie in wait while Voldemort was served the first move. Not only it was something Chandra found monumentally stupid, but it wasn't even tactically sound, especially considering that the dour potion professor was actually a double agent in the enemy camp. And all that right after she had to argue her way into the discussion in the first place: apparently some of those morons thought that since she was only a teenager then she had no business in a war. Fifteen she might have been, but she had more experience than half of those fools.

"I fought in the last war kid," said some incredibly old man sitting on Dumbledore's left, one of those advocating that fighting was only for adults "Almost all of us did, we know better than you how to face this threat."

_Must not char the old coot! _chanted the pyromancer in her mind trying to reign her emotions in _Immolating your allies is Bad!_

"Can it Ephias," barked a man with more scars than one could count and one visibly fake eye "The gal has a point, and we were losing that war."

"Intelligence must be the first step," insisted the corpulent matron of the Weasley clan in a pained tone "I lost my brothers to disinformation."

The argument only grew worse after that, with people from both camps criticizing anything and everything about the others.

From what Chandra could gather, both groups were apparently in agreement over just two points: Voldemort had to be stopped and killing the Death Eaters was a big no. The first point was fine, but while the pyromancer had never been a great fan of senseless killing –as opposed to people like Liliana who simply found it more efficient– she had also been in enough fights to know that some opponents had simply to be put down for good. Fanatics like some of those Death Eaters appeared to be fell squarely in that category.

She didn't bring it up though, she had already tried when she had been kidnapped by Malfoy and Weasley and the headmaster had been clear at the time he was a man who believed in second chances. Instead, she decided to use her own discretion once on the field.

The discussion wound down when the professor-turned-spy informed them that Voldemort had no plans of doing anything except some covert recruitment because lord Malfoy had convinced him to exploit the time afforded by the lies being spread by the Ministry about his return. Unfortunately, while the argument had calmed, it had remained unsolved.

"There is one thing I'm curious though," said professor Snape before the meeting was adjourned eyeing Chandra in a way she found mildly disturbing "While I'm sure Miss Nalaar's help would be invaluable on the field, she duelled the Dark Lord to a standstill after all, how can she intervene if she's at school?"

The question stumped the pyromancer. Not because she hadn't thought of that, but because she had had no plans of going back to Hogwarts. And why ever would she?

Unfortunately for her, she seemed to be the only one of that idea.

"She won't actually help with the fighting," explained Dumbledore in his usual far-too-jolly tone "Well, unless we deploy en masse, of course."

"What?!" she thundered as her hair went up in flames.

The headmaster's smile dimmed as his hand gripped his wand. Chandra held up a hand to stop him –she didn't like being doused– and took a deep breath to calm down.

"Who decided I'm not fighting?" she asked in a calmer tone once she had reigned herself in.

"I need you at Hogwarts my dear," replied the headmaster sounding a bit older and decidedly serious "Your and Miss Vess' help will be invaluable in a project I have, something that is, of course, vital for the upcoming war. I cannot say more, I'm sorry, but for that I'll need you in the castle."

This mellowed Chandra. Fighting was what she did best, but helping the headmaster was ok too. She also had a pretty good idea what he needed her and Liliana for.

She briefly wondered how the necromancer was: she and Gideon had departed for Dominaria shortly after the end of the school year to hunt down the last of the demons holding her contract. Chandra hoped both her friends were ok.

In the end, the meeting ended with only half of a plan, but the pyromancer decided it wasn't worth fighting over it anymore. She'd just tell the fools "I told you!" while saving their asses later on.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: I don't own anything. Fun fact: the idea for the first scene is all credited to my girlfriend.**

CHAPTER 24 – Careful consideration

"What is this Nissa?" asked Chandra staring at the sad looking potted plant her friend had given her.

It was small and decidedly wilted-looking, but it sported some pretty flowers in pale pink that contrasted well with the dark green heart-shaped leaves.

"It's a geranium, Chandra," explained the elf with a large, sincere smile "To liven up your depressing dump of a house."

Grimauld Place was already looking tidier after barely a day, but it was a slow process, particularly so since Kreacher refused categorically any help form his new mistress. Not that Chandra actually knew anything about cleaning.

"Thanks, I guess..." replied the other placing the pot on the troll leg umbrella stand, it wasn't like it was actually holding any umbrellas to begin with.

She loved Nissa dearly, she really did, but sometimes she could get so... Nissa. The elf might have been an empath, but sometimes her bluntness could be too much even for the redhead, which was saying something. Chandra tried to ignore her friend's quirks because she knew it was due to the elf"s upbringing. Also, it was incredibly funny when she called Jace an idiot for botching a plan.

"I had thought to give you a present to celebrate transferring to a new house," explained Nissa, completely obvious to the effects her straightforwardness had on others "Hermione taught me it's traditional on this plane, and also that plants are a popular choice. I had thought of something called lava lamp, but apparently they don't have real lava inside. It was a great letdown."

"I appreciate the thought Nissa, honest, but you didn't need to give me anything to decorate the house," said the pyromancer letting her friend in "Can I offer you some tea?"

* * *

It soon became apparent that there was more to Dumbledore request of Chandra's presence at school than what was immediately apparent.

By the final dregs of summer the Ministry was still denying the reality of the threat in front of them, and even worse they were publicly denouncing through the _Prophet_ anyone who dared speak up against them, which of course included the pyromancer and the headmaster themselves. Thanks to that defamation campaign –because it was exactly that, lies and mud thrown in their faces and nothing more– Dumbledore lost some of his political positions despite keeping most of his capital intact, while Chandra was ill received by the populace whenever she actually went out, even if she didn't care particularly. The worst consequence still was that the _esteemed_ Minister had convinced himself that the headmaster was out for his job –a silly idea since Dumbledore had apparently refused the position many times in the past– so he manipulated his supporters to pass a law that let him nominate any vacancies in the Hogwarts faculty right after a bill that prohibited hiring werewolves for any job that might even have them somewhat close to children. This in turn meant that professor Lupin was forced to resign from his post and, thanks to the political climate, a Ministry official was appointed as the new Defense professor, one Dolores Umbrige. Despite the paper painting the woman as a shining ray of hope in a failing school system, it wasn't hard to guess that she was actually there only to keep Dumbledore in check, and therefore having Chandra in the school was the headmaster's way to respond: the pyromancer was sure to annoy the new professor with her abrasiveness and general disregard of rules while being relatively safe from retribution thanks to not being a student, distracting the woman and therefore leaving the elderly wizard more room to act undisturbed.

If she had to be a hundred percent honest, being used as a distraction wasn't on top of Chandra's favourite pastimes –it usually involved ending on the wrong end of people's weapons and spells, which wasn't exactly her idea of fun– but the squat woman appeared to be cut from the same mold as Malfoy and his ilk, and she enjoyed messing with the stuck-up, self-entitled types a bit too much.

There was also the fact that being back at school granted her the opportunity to keep teaching people about the Multiverse, which she had come to greatly enjoy. She was, in her free time, drafting up two courses: one for younger students about other planes and who and what called them home, and one for the sixth and seventh years where she went more in depth about the less pleasant aspects of those same planes' history, flora, fauna and inhabitants. She had traumatized enough children the first time around, to mess up again.

* * *

Another important event of that summer was escorting Hermione to buy her school supplies in the last week of August.

The bushy haired witch hadn't actually _needed_ an escort, but Kreacher was waxing the parquets and had politely ordered his mistress out of the house for the day, so Chandra found herself some way to enjoyably pass time. Fortunately, her friend had plans that could be accommodated.

Diagon Alley presented itself in all its chaotic glory when the two teens entered from the Leaky Cauldron, and the pyromancer found herself back at the Inventor's Fair, only with less whirring metal contraptions and more magical paraphernalia. Everywhere she looked, someone was trying to grab the passersby's attention to eye-catching wares of the most disparate kind.

"So, where to first Hermione?" asked the redhead tearing her eyes from what she thought was a curiosity shop.

"The bank," said the witch looking all around while absently scratching her phoenix's breast feathers "Aren't you even a little bothered?"

The bird cawed, as if to underline her owner's words.

Chandra, sensing she had lost some detail of the conversation, looked around. A sizable part of the wizards bustling around –and it was obvious who was a wizard and who was of non-magical origin by the diverse clothes– were directing a wide array of looks her way, ranging from distrusting to actual hateful glares.

"Are they bothering you?" she asked calculating in her mind how much troubles she could get into without Jace coming all the way from… wherever he was to personally reprimand her.

She much preferred when the mind mage was stuck on Ixalan and couldn't do anything more than bother her telepathically. At least she could ignore him when he wasn't shouting in her face.

"They should be bothering _you_!" protested Hermione as they walked towards the vaguely Akroan-looking marble building.

"Nah, you know I don't care," replied the planeswalker waving a dismissive hand, before adding in louder tone "The sheep know all they can do is glare."

Said glares intensified. Some of the smarter ones hurried away, while others looked tempted to go for their wands. She almost wished they would just give her the excuse to show them "deranged and unstable" as their paper had defined her.

"Chandra please, don't instigate them," begged the witch while simultaneously dragging the other girl by the hand "We don't need that kind of attention."

"I must get you one of Jace's capes, you're starting to sound just like him..." replied the pyromancer with a sigh but without resisting.

From what she could remember, Chandra had never been in a bank. One or two treasuries, Baraal's ill-gotten "secret" stash, and even a lost tomb of eldritch horrors from beyond reality, but nothing even remotely resembling what she found in the ornate hall of Gringotts bank. Or rather, who she found: never she would have guessed that there existed a plane where goblins weren't gibbering morons that loved bloody, explosive, smelly and/or shiny things, but there they were, with their quills and neat uniforms, hoarding and guarding the wizards' money while more armored goblins kept watch with their gilded halberds.

_On a second thought,_ she thought gazing all around the ornate hall _There __isn't__ that much differen__ce __with__ any other planes __I __have__ seen, maybe just a little more civilized.__ And clean, can't possibly forget that._

Not knowing the local customs but knowing goblins in general, she kept her observations for herself and followed Hermione to a free teller. No need to incite rage in obviously belligerent creatures, after all.

The witch had hoped to grab her money quietly and leave before Chandra could cause a new goblin rebellion by being her usual abrasive self. Of course, since her friend seemed to be a trouble magnet that plan had to be discarded when the teller recognized the planeswaker.

"Miss Potter, we've been waiting for you to come to our bank for a very long time," said the teller while offering a smile with far too many teeth "And time is money."

Hearing those words, Hermione wanted to cry, while two guards closed in on them.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: last short chapter about Chandra's summer, next week we're back at Hogwarts an in the thick of things. As always, I own nothing.**

CHAPTER 25 - Curse of opulence

It turns out that goblins took a perverse pleasure in making wizards uncomfortable, so they tried their level best to scare them at every opportunity they got. Case in point, despite the less than amicable way they were received and Hermione's worst fears, she and Chandra were simply escorted to the Potter's account manager.

Sawtooth was visibly old, yet he still let out an aura of savage ferocity, something towards which the gilded war axe hung above his desk helped a lot. The ornate crimson uniform didn't hurt his image either since it wouldn't have looked out of place at a military parade.

"I was wondering if I'd have the pleasure of meeting you in person, Miss Potter, I'm not getting any younger, you know?" he said gesturing for them to sit "I was expecting you four years ago."

"I didn't even know this place existed until last year, and certainly not that you were expecting me," replied Chandra shaking her head "I lived pretty far away until recently."

"So I gathered from the papers, but enough chitchat," he cut short the pleasantries with as much finesse as a butcher before passing her a tall stack of parchments.

The first thing Chandra noticed was that she was filthy rich, a wealth born of being the sole heiress to both the Potters' and the Blacks' fortune, and that was just the liquid assets. Despite the high figures she could read, Sawtooth had to admit that in her absence many tenants had stopped playing the rent, making her less rich that what she should have been, particularly since goblins couldn't enforce due payment outside of Gringotts. If she had to be completely honest, Chandra didn't care one lick: she didn't know what to do with that much money as it was, having some more wouldn't have certainly helped. She needed a way to use her wealth in a meaningful way, so she asked her account manager. After several failed attempts –he was under the understandably wrong impression she had wanted to invest her money to gain even more– they finally found something that she could get behind. Sawtooth was less than happy but what could he do? He was just the account manager, he'd do as asked: sell every real estates save Grimauld Place and donate ninety percent of her liquid assets to various orphanages around the world. To sweeten the deal for the goblin, Chandra added an extra five percent for him to keep as payment for service rendered. _That_ brightened his mood considerably.

After all, what goblin didn't like their shinies?

With that settled, Chandra and Hermione were able to visit their respective vaults to collect what money they'd need for their shopping. The pyromancer, despite her friend's discomfort, enjoyed the cart ride very much.

* * *

The rest of the shopping trip went very much like one would expect of Hermione, that is to say it was very methodical and allotted an inordinate amount of time for the bookshop. While such an arrangement would have worked for essentially anyone she knew, Chandra knew better than to tempt fate spending that much time near that many books: it wasn't that she hated libraries and the like, they were the ones that didn't like her; bad things always happened to her in archives and such places, ending up with a charge for arson _every single time_.

So, instead of visiting the most flammable establishment in the Alley, the planeswalker decided to leave a couple of requests with her friend and have a better look around.

She was honestly tempted by the wand shop, or rather she was very curious whether or not she could actually use a wand, but she ultimately decided against it: her trusted gauntlet was perfectly fine, and all things considered, wood was terribly flammable.

The cauldron shop, the apothecary and the one selling quills and such had little appeal to her, partly due to having already visited them with Hermione, and partly due to the nature of their wares. Yes, she had bought two ruby red quills and some ink bottles earlier, but that was more to keep up appearances at Hogwarts than any real need.

Quidditch Quality Supplies got her attention for just the time needed to choose and purchase an economic broom, because why not? Flying sounded pretty cool and was completely out of her skillet.

She visited briefly the trunk store to see about getting something portable: she was starting to accumulate stuff in her stay, it would be a pity to leave it all behind when she left. Chandra paused at that line of thinking, stopping in front of a self-shrinking trunk. She hadn't given too much thought to the moment when everything was said and done and it was time to say goodbye, mostly because it was what she hated most about leaving a plane. Sure, every place in the Multiverse was just a short planeswalk away to her, but sometimes things weren't so easy. Like with her mom and Kaladesh. The pyromancer shook her head and went back to browsing. She'd face the goodbyes when it was time to say them, overthinking things had never helped her anyway, nor had it ever been her style.

Jace and Hermione must have been rubbing off on her.

Armed with a newly acquired satchel –charmed to be much bigger on the inside and as light as a feather, she loved the ingenuity of eartborn wizards– Chandra moved on with her shopping and entered the pet shop. She wasn't going to actually get any animal, it would only be one more friend to leave behind after all, but she still loved looking at the little cuties like the next girl. She almost bought a baby runespoor –a two headed snake that spat fire! How cool was that?– only to be stopped by none other than Pansy Parkinson. The girl –who still sported a visible case of heterochromia but, thanks to Liliana holding up her side of the deal, her right eye was now an astounding shade of purple rather than a dead looking thing– was there to buy a new carrier for her cat and thought to point out that one needed a special permission to own such dangerous magical creatures. Chandra had her doubts that the little reptile busy to gnaw its own tail while sneezing fire could be considered anything other than adorable, certainly not dangerous, but decided to trust the local girl and gave up in favor of asking her for suggestions on what to visit next. Pansy had no doubt: Borgin&Burke in Knocturn Alley, the shady version of a curiosity shop.

"Well, a _really_ shady version," she pointed out in hushed tones "Like, borderline illegal. But they sell tons of interesting stuff."

Chandra had often been on the wrong side of the law, what with being first a street urchin, then a thief for hire and a pyromancer, so she had little qualms about such an establishment. She thanked Pansy, feigned a loud spat over nothing with her because they were supposedly in opposing camps, and marched out towards her next destination.

If Diagon Alley was bright and cheerful, Knocturn was shadowy and hushed, frequented by shady characters and, more in general, those that ill-fitted social norms. Chandra, after a cursory glance, decided that despite her past it was better for everyone if she spent the least possible time in there. Fortunately, her target wasn't supposed to be particularly deep in the darkened alley, but before she could actually enter she was stopped by an all-too-familiar shrilly voice:

"Where do you think you're going missy?" shrieked Molly Weasley grabbing her left arm and almost getting slugged in the face for it "That's no place for a proper young witch!"

"Mrs. Weasley, what a pleasure," ground out the pyromancer freeing herself "I was just wandering about, no need to get alarmed."

Before anything more could be said, Hermione emerged from the bookstore, so Chandra grabbed the opportunity to flee the redheaded woman. It wasn't that the planeswalker hated her or anything –she guessed her own mother would have been pretty much like Molly had Kaladesh been more peaceful– it was just that it seemed that being completely unreasonable and stubborn run in the family.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: We're back to Hogwarts and right in the midst of things after the summer, and I still own nothing here.**

CHAPTER 26 – Unimpeded trespasser

Chandra's first meeting with Dolores Umbridge happened at the end of August, in occasion of a staff meeting. The pyromancer would have happily skipped it, but Dumbledore had insisted that as a professor she had duties to attend to.

Since she had arrived earlier –there had been an Order meeting in the morning so she had hitched a ride with the elderly headmaster rather than subjecting herself to the floo– she had been waiting in the staff room along a number of other professors for the last stragglers, occupying her time with reviewing her proposed lesson plan. She might have taught an elective subject open to first years only –since the vast majority of the older students had followed her lectures the previous year– but Dumbledore hadn't let her shrink on her duties, if nothing else to save the appearances. It was simply impossible to miss the pink-clad, squat woman that sauntered into the room scant minutes before the meeting, just as she was sure to notice the teenager in red, even if she hadn't been a celebrity.

Professor Umbridge got closer and, after clearing her voice with an obviously fake "hem hem", demanded what Chandra was doing there in what the pyromancer found to be the singularly most saccharine and irritating tone she had ever heard. The fact that the woman had called her _dearie_ might have also rubbed her the wrong way.

"Reviewing my lesson plan," she replied looking up from the parchment she had been perusing "I'm unsure if I shouldn't bump Innistrad later on in the year or avoid mentioning it at all."

This had apparently stolen the professor's thunder, but she soon got it back when Flitwick badly faked a cough to hide his laughter.

"You shouldn't lie to your betters, miss Potter," hissed the pink woman trying to cow her into submission.

"First of all, I'm not lying: we are colleagues. Second, my name is Nalaar as it has been for the past fifteen years, try remembering it _dearie_," said Chandra suppressing the need to punch the irritating woman before adding in a low whisper "And last but decidedly not least, drop the superiority act or..."

Whatever threat the pyromancer had been about to deliver was cut short by the headmaster's arrival and the beginning of the meeting. The two antagonists shot each other vitriolic glares and went to sit as far as they possibly could from each other.

By the end of the mercifully short meeting, around ninety-nine percent of the present people had developed an intense dislike for Dolores Umbridge, who had felt entitled to openly criticize anything and everything in the lesson plans of everybody save , who still obviously didn't like the other woman beyond the barest minimum required of polite society. Chandra could swear she had heard McGonagall mutter under her breath about cats hunting frogs.

* * *

Sooner than Chandra would have liked it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Not that she disliked life in the castle, nor she was particularly attached to her new house either, but she had grown fond of Kreacher and leaving him alone felt simply wrong.

Something else that felt wrong at Hogwarts were its grandiose meals: she had found them excessive the previous year, and after two months of Kreacher's cooking –tastefully simple, just like she preferred– she rediscovered her dislike for the wastefulness of the school's welcoming feast. The experience was made even worse from the professors' table since she was sitting close to Umbridge. Thankfully she had Hagrid on her other side to talk to or she might have gone mad, or sent the woman to the infirmary. Or more likely both.

Dumbledore got up and gave his customary start-of-the-year speech, much like he had done at the closing feast some months prior, and presented both the new members of the faculty. Chandra stood to receive a short applause then sat again, while professor Umbridge instead held her own unplanned speech and shot any doubt or illusion anyone might still have had about her motives.

Subtlety, the pyromancer decided, was not the woman's strong suit, despite what she herself seemed to believe.

* * *

It was late in the night and Chandra, who had hoped for much needed sleep, sat in front of the headmaster's desk in his office.

"I apologize for the hour my dear," said the man steeping his fingers and leaning back in his throne-like chair "But I thought it better to put you apart of the latest developments."

"I can be pretty impatient, yes," surmised the girl nodding her head, not at all perturbed by her shortcomings.

She knew them well, she's faced the problem and had accepted it was part of who she was. No sense in sugarcoating things.

"I only meant to say that I respect your opinion," chuckled Dumbledore before sobering up "Voldemort keeps laying low, but he's set his sights on the record of the prophecy held in the Department of Mysteries. We've organized surveillance rounds."

_Still the waiting game,_ thought the planeswalker tapping a finger on her crossed arms _Wars cannot be won by waiting._

"Can't we get it before him?" she said instead of voicing her opinion.

She didn't doubt Dumbledore valued other people's thoughts, but he hardly ever followed up on them. It was a big liability for a political leader. Still, he asked for it and that's exactly what she would give him.

"It would undoubtedly force his hand," he explained shaking his head slowly "And we're not ready to face him yet. On that note, I believe I localized one more horcrux."

"Good news at last. When do we deal with it? Or did you move already?" she asked leaning back and uncrossing her arms.

"Tomorrow night."

* * *

"What are you doing here Hermione?" asked the pyromancer cocking her head sideways in confusion.

She was about to have her first lesson of the year and had stepped into her appointed classroom to find her friend waiting by her desk.

"Good morning to you too, professor Nalaar," replied the witch smirking "Professor McGonagall asked me to remind you to avoid traumatizing your students."

"For the last time Hermione, I'm not your professor," said the planeswalker heaving a tired sigh.

They had had that argument already multiple times during the summer. Of course it was all in good fun, but Chandra had slept too little and was in no mood to discuss that point any further.

"And I didn't plan on showing any Eldrazi at all in this course. I'll keep to the sunshine and rainbows approved by the Board."

That too had been a tiring meeting: a group of strangers with no cognition about planeswalkers or the Multiverse telling her how to teach. It hadn't went over well, but she had managed to keep to herself what she thought of the Board of Governors _and_ her job; that was a win in its own.

"Also I'm here as your apprentice," continued Hermione choosing to ignore her friend's reply.

Chandra quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. There was a hint of smoke in the air though.

"The Board apparently decided your course is too precious to lose once you'll go back to Kaladesh or wherever you'll go next –professor Dumbledore made it clear it was a given fact– so they asked him to find someone to learn from you so that the knowledge won't be lost, but that could also translate any too distant concept you might bring up. I'm that someone."

_Whatever the pompous prats ask, the pompous prats get. The nerve of them..._ privately though Chandra heaving a sigh.

"I guess you're as close to an expert they'll get short of an actual planeswalker... Welcome on board Hermione," she said in a far brighter tone than what she felt like.

It wasn't her friend's fault, so she wouldn't burden her with the guilt. Chandra was even glad to have her near and for the excuse to keep their bond alive, but her spirit fought instinctually against constraints and dictats from above. She decided to let the whole thing go; as Ajani often said: chose your opponents and battles wisely. No need to make an enemy of the Board over such a thing. Her resolve arrived right on time since students started trickling into the room scant moments later.

In a bout of vindictiveness about the professor thing, the redhead presented her friend not as assistant but as _trainee_ Granger. The look on the witch's face had no price.

* * *

Side-along apparition was much like her planeswalking, as in it was near instantaneous and pretty uncomfortable; unlike planeswalking though, she wasn't used to the feeling. Chandra hadn't liked it the first time around, and her opinion hadn't improved any, but at least she somehow managed not to land on her face.

She and Dumbledore had met in his office and then had apparated in front of a dilapidated hovel that barely held together. By the looks of it, it was abandoned and had been for a long time.

She appraised the moulding wood, the thatched roof, the overgrown lawn and the surrounding forest before asking if the horcrux was inside.

"Yes dear, but do avoid burning the place down," was Dumbledore's flippant answer "We don't want Voldemort knowing that we know his secret."

"No problem, I'm super sneaky," she said confidently before calmly strolling ahead.

Despite the fact that she wore red clothes and her particular brand of magic, for some reason, the headmaster felt the claim to hold a certain measure of truth. He followed her, wondering if it was just luck that she had avoided all the spell snares on the ground.

Chandra walked over the honestly amateurish traps hidden amid the tall grass, reached the door, which was the only visible access to the hovel, and wrinkled her nose at the dead snake nailed to it. After Dumbledore had agreed that there were no more traps and that the snake was simply some twisted kind of decoration, the pyromancer carefully opened the door and peered in.

The room was simple, almost barren, with a small stove on one side and three straw beds on the opposite. It was also stupidly dark and disgustingly untidy, far more than simple abandonment could do. Whoever had been the inhabitants, they surely had liked living in filth and darkness. One thing that piqued her interest though was the dust.

"There's tracks in the dust," she pointed out to Dumbledore "Some kind of snake."

As if summoned by her words, the ground exploded upwards as countless snakes crawled out of the mouldy planks while the sparse furniture transformed into larger specimens.

Chandra pushed the headmaster out of the way with one hand as the snakes surged towards them. Her free hand molded as much mana she could muster in an instant –not nearly as much as she would have liked, unfortunately– into a stream of brilliant orange flames.

It was too little, too late.

The wave of writhing bodies slammed into her, pushing her back into the front lawn. She felt the sting of many small bites on her exposed skin and let her magic surge. The overgrown garden exploded into crimson flames as the snakes and grass turned to cinders in mere instants.

Dumbledore, who had dispelled two of the larger snakes and was aiming for the third, saw his charge getting up amid that destruction with a pained grimace.

"Come back in a minute," she ordered as a rivulet of blood escaped her lips "Bring a medic."

That said she donned her glasses and started pumping her reserves for all the mana she could muster.

She had been good as a thief for hire, and she could do sneaky if needed, but she was never subtle. Subtlety was Jace's job. She could try, sure, but it always ended badly, no exceptions. She should have gone with her first instinct and burned everything inside the clearing into fine ash. _That_ always worked.

The remaining snakes, having lost their target when Dumbledore apparated away, coiled up and sprang towards her, fangs poised to strike.

She ignored them and focused on the darkening sky overhead.

The closest snake clamped its fangs around her unarmored arm just as the first tongue of fire and molten matter fell from the sky, removing a good chunk of its body. The other reptile didn't get that close but died almost in the same moment. Six more meteors hit the hovel and reduced it to a burning pile of rubble, while five others fell on apparently random points of the clearing, destroying the still active traps.

Chandra stood still, gasping for air as more blood dribbled down her chin. Her hair extinguished and fell limp on her shoulders, then she started falling to she side as her legs buckled. She had already passed out before her body hit the ground and a loud _crack_ resonated in the silent clearing.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: I still don't own anything.**

CHAPTER 27 - Press for answers

"I stabilized her internal bleeding," said Madam Pomfrey lowering the latest vial from the unconscious girl's lips and waving her wand in a complex pattern over her patient's chest "But we need to bring her to , Albus."

"I feared as much," commented the headmaster staring at the destroyed building, for once not sounding like his usual jolly self "Can't you do anything, Severus?"

The younger man shook his head but didn't move his gaze from where he was magically extracting a dark green substance from Chandra's largest wound, the one they had to remove a snake's head from.

"Not without knowing which poison this is," he added guiding the liquid into a glass vial "I doubt the Dark Lord used something that can be healed by a simple bezoar. Knowing his mindset, it would probably kill her faster."

"Do your best. Once she's fit to travel, I'll create a portkey to ," said Dumbledore walking closer to the rubble "Meanwhile I'll-"

Whatever he had meant to say was cut when a wave of cold air surged into the clearing, heralding the arrival of a purple-clad woman, who appeared out of thin air in a shower of dark sparks.

"This is not the castle," said Liliana letting her gaze wander around the clearing before stopping on the headmaster "Unless you let Chandra revamp the place, that is. What happened?"

"Ah, Miss Vess. Miss Nalaar was helping me retrieving an extremely important artifact, but things didn't work out too well..." was his somewhat bitter reply.

"Nissa left just the other day, we can't leave this girl alone..." muttered the planeswalker with a groan before stepping closer and giving a prolonged clinical glance at the downed pyromancer "I can neutralize the poison, but I need you to keep her stable. Get ready."

She knelt down and placed a finger in the flow of poison coming out of Chandra's shoulder, then channeled her mana into it. With a purple pulse directed downward, the fluid began turning a rusty color before essentially dissolving into nothing. When the pulse reached the unconscious planeswalker's shoulder, she gasped for air as her muscles locked up and her eyes flew open, although they remained unfocused. Madam Pomfrey cursed, grabbed a new vial of some potion from a pocket and passed it to Snape while chanting and waving her wand above Chandra's chest. The man said nothing but dropped his wand and forced the redhead to drink. After a couple of very tense moments, Chandra's eyes closed as her muscles relaxed visibly and her breathing evened out.

"She's stable," muttered Madam Pomfrey letting her last diagnostic charm fade "The poison is gone, but she needs to rest now."

Liliana ignored the withering glare the woman sent her way and got back on her feet, dusting off the ash from her gown.

"I'm guessing that you were looking for the vile feeling thing buried in those ruins, right?" she asked the headmaster sauntering over to him "One of those phylacteries, if I had to guess."

"Yes," replied the old man while enchanting a loose piece of rubble into a portkey for the matron "It is still intact after all of this destruction?"

"Don't worry, it won't be for much longer..." darkly commented the necromancer as her skin flared to life in her usual purple array of runes.

* * *

Peace in the castle lasted for a grand total of two days, then Chandra was released from the infirmary. It wasn't that the redhead herself brought chaos purposely, but troubles just seemed to follow her. Case in point, she was questioned about her injury by professor Umbridge during launch the very same day she got released; Liliana, who had been talking with the pyromancer and who hadn't had the dubious pleasure of meeting the pink-clad witch, asked her sort-of-friend why there was a human-anurid hybrid at the table.

Things only escalated after professor Umbridge stormed away in obvious rage. The squat woman tried every trick in the book to have the necromancer removed from the castle grounds: complaining to Dumbledore and Fudge didn't yield any worthwhile result, even if the minister promised to think on it, while her anonymous tip to the aurors was ignored, and trying to trip the planeswalker on the stairs could have done the trick if only the Gray Lady hadn't intervened to steady the necromancer.

The only positive to the whole story was that the pink-clad witch forgot about questioning Chandra. She was still a pain to have around.

While the completely one-sided and unseen war was taking place, Chandra went back to her normal teaching schedule while also meeting up with Dumbledore about their common side job. With the ring, the locket and the diary they had already taken care of three horcrux but had little more to go on: the headmaster's investigation had identified two more suspicious objects but not their location, and they had no way of knowing how many of the deranged things Voldemort had created. The second problem was more easily solved than the first, so they focused on it.

It took Dumbledore two weeks but he finally tracked down one of his former colleagues: Horace Slughorn, the only person with whom a young Voldemort had spoken of the horcruxes. Chandra and Liliana were more than happy to investigate for the elderly headmaster. The fact that they could both use the chance to vent away from the senior undersecretary had _nothing_ to do with it.

* * *

As soon as word had come around that Voldemort had returned –even just as hushed whispers in dark corners and conspiracy theories– Horace Slughorn had dropped out of the public scene, disappearing completely almost as if he had left the country. Unfortunately for him, all his skill in hiding didn't keep him from the incredibly resourceful headmaster of Hogwarts.

Chandra and Liliana cared little about all of that: Dumbledore pointed them at the cookie-cut house in the anonymous-looking suburb, and they simply gained entrance –the owner of the house would have to replace the molten lock– and searched for the potion master by means of summoned shades that scoured the property.

The pyromancer had never been a great fan of undead in general, and incorporeal ones in particular, but she was forced to admit that they were efficient if nothing else.

Soon enough they heard the frightened screams of a man and went to face him. He had transfigured himself into an overly stuffed armchair –which didn't look so grand of a feat for a person of his mass– but had dropped his disguise as soon as what he thought were dementors entered the room. He wasn't particularly tall nor terriby short, but he was certainly corpulent and started showing signs of advanced age. The two planeswalkers shared a look, nodded and, while Liliana dismissed her summons, Chandra got closer to the man.

"Horace Slughorn?" she asked the shaking wizard in a tone meant to reassure him.

"W-who wants t-to know?" he asked back staring warily at Liliana.

It wasn't a yes, but the redhead didn't count it as a no either.

"I'm Chandra Nalaar, but you might know me as Rose Potter," explained the pyromancer in the same calm tone before pressing on "Dumbledore needs your help."

"I won't come," he hissed trying to scuttle backwards "It's not safe!"

Unfortunately for him, his back was already almost against the wall, so his retreat did actually very little.

Also, Chandra had gotten all the confirmation she needed, so she simply punched him between the eyes and he flopped down unconscious.

"Dumbledore can pick his brain himself, let's go back," she commented dusting herself "Summon something to carry him, would you? He looks terribly heavy."


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: here we are with another exciting chapter, and yet I still own nothing**.

CHAPTER 28 - Soul conduit

"I have to say that I would have preferred a less violent method of acquiring Horace's cooperation," commented Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, his eternal joviality apparently gone leaving tiredness in its wake "And yet, no life was needlessly lost and my old colleague is now here, safe and sound in his old office. Unfortunately, that's where the good news end."

"So he talked? Just like that?" asked Liliana sounding skeptical "After all that trouble with the fake memory I expected he'd put up a fight..."

"Oh, Horace did try to resist, but I can be extremely persuasive when the need arises," he replied with a weak chuckle, a hint of his jolliness shining through in his eyes before it disappeared under the weight of the subject at hand "He's not certain, nobody can be, but apparently Voldemort aimed to create six horcrux, splitting his soul into seven parts."

"I cannot fathom rending your own soul once, let alone six times," commented Liliana shaking her head in disbelief "What possessed him to try such a thing?"

Her fellow planeswalker coughed something that suspiciously sounded like "contract". Liliana completely ignored her.

"Seven is a very strong magical number," explained Dumbledore in a tone that Chandra could only define academic, his past as a teacher coming to the forefront "It is associated with stability, power and good fortune. Most other options would present some kind of conceptual drawback, like three and five being associated with chaos or imbalance, all except for the number thirteen."

"Any way we can know for sure?" asked the redhead tilting her head to the side "We already got four horcrux, so we can rule out three."

"Thirteen too: souls can only withstand that much abuse before breaking apart and dissolving," continued the necromancer thoughtfully.

Chandra wasn't sure she wanted to ask how her friend knew. She gave herself the generic "demonic tutor" answer she used when Liliana's comments became too morbid.

"Since I'm quite certain I know what he used for his last two horcrux, I'd wager they are indeed seven," revealed the headmaster leaning back in his chair "This doesn't tell us where to look though."

"There might be a third hidden one," said Chandra after a moment of silence "I doubt he planned the one in my scar so he probably believes he's one short or had made his last before attacking me..."

"That is a definite possibility I fear," admitted Dumbledore with a weary sigh as he caressed his beard "And I have absolutely no idea what he could have used for this supposed third horcrux..."

"Let's focus on the known ones then," suggested Liliana with a swiping gesture of her left hand, as if wanting to banish the thought "What are those?"

"Since childhood Voldemort always had the habit of collecting trophies and matching sets. After discovering he was heir to one of the founders, this quirk of his grew into a real obsession," explained the elderly wizard back in his lecture tone "The diary and ring were his own, symbols of his roots and past, but the locket had been Salazar Slytherin's, so my best guess is that he looked for other relics of the founders: Ravenclaw's diadem and Hufflepuff's cup, both lost items and both somehow linked with young Tom Riddle, Voldemort's birth name."

"What about Gryffindor?" asked Chandra tilting her head "Wouldn't he miss that for a complete set?"

"The sword of Gryffindor has been lost since time immemorial I fear, far longer than Tom has been alive. Had he gotten his hands on that, I'm sure it would make a fine addition to his collection... It might just be our missing last item."

"Wait," said Liliana looking like someone who had just remembered something of capital importance "I was talking with Helena the other day and she mentioned a diadem. She seemed convinced that it still is in the castle!"

* * *

Locating Helena Ravenclaw, alias the Gray Lady, was pretty easy. Getting her not to talk in riddles was borderline impossible, but somehow between Liliana and Dumbledore they managed. Unfortunately, convincing the solitary ghost to actually reveal the location of the diadem turned out to be a lost cause: Voldemort had tricked her once and she was disillusioned about the lost treasure actually getting destroyed. All she revealed was to look for the Room of Hidden Things, which the headmaster had never heard of.

"I'll try speaking with the other ghosts, you ask around for this room," suggested Liliana watching the sad lingering soul float away "If we're lucky Hermione will know it."

Chandra and Dumbledore agreed, and went their own way.

Except, the pyromancer didn't head for the library to look for her friend, but went after the female ghost.

"Please wait!" she called after the Gray Lady, hoping she would be agreeable to listen a moment longer.

Chandra Nalaar was a girl who loved life and freedom, but she understood pain and loss too. She had seen far too much suffering across the Multiverse, she had lost her dad, she had been betrayed. She could understand the Gray Lady. All she needed was letting the sad ghost see it.

The translucent figure stopped and hovered in midair a moment before turning around, a delicate eyebrow marginally raised.

"I know I cannot order you around like Liliana, and I assure you she _will_ do it if nothing else works," said Chandra stopping close to the ghost "But I also know what betrayal feels like. I know how you feel about that jewel."

"What can you know? Riddle came looking for me, he was interested in me! Not my mother! ME!" shouted Helena getting in the redhead's face before returning calm and bitter like a frozen lake "We spent so many wonderful hours talking, he was a great listener, until he backstabbed me. He promised he'd destroy the diadem, destroy my mother's legacy, and then turned it into that... blasphemy. Yours are just pretty words of an ignorant child, nothing more. I no longer fall for honeyed lies."

"Then go on, perpetuate his crime a bit longer," said Chandra opening her arms wide "He defied _your_ diadem and you're covering for him. Where in the blazes did that rage go?"

Her original plan had ended up in flames, like ninety per cent of them. Big surprise. She was lucky she had long since learned the value of thinking on her feet.

"What did you say, child?" Helena hissed going very still, the kind of unnatural motionlessness that only undead can manage.

"You're the one running from your problems like a child, not me," bit back the pyromancer smirking "Just like you fled from your mother's shadow."

"I'm not going to stand here getting insulted by you," huffed the ghost turning around to leave.

"Then go face your problems already!"

"I'm a ghost, I cannot destroy the diadem!" shouted back Helena turning around.

"Then trust someone who's renowned for her destructiveness," smugly said Chandra crossing her arms and adding a superior smirk "If I can burn down an Eldrazi titan I can certainly toast one little trinket too."

* * *

"Here," said Chandra tossing a half-molten silver tiara on Dumbledore's desk "One more down, two left."

She then sat on one of the plush armchairs painting a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Magnificent my dear," said the headmaster checking the destroyed artifact "But how did you find it, if I may ask?"

"It wasn't much," declared Chandra shrugging "Convincing Helena to guide me to the Room of Requirements was by far the hardest part. Not even that thing's defenses and running into the Toad compare."

And then the pyromancer began a lengthy explanation of how she had followed the ghost to a room full to the brim of heaps of discarded stuff, found the diadem, and torched it while it tried to flee on small twisted legs it sprouted. She had to use ghostfire since nothing else seemed to work.

"It was a mess, I had to burn down half the room to get that thing," concluded the redhead huffing "Thankfully I foresaw this and sent Helena for Hermione so she could douse the fire."

"You told Miss Granger of the horcrux?" asked the wizard looking up sharply from his analysis of the destroyed item.

"Of course not. You said to keep it on a need-to-know basis, and that's what I did," replied Chandra shaking her head "I told her it was a dangerous artifact that had to be destroyed, nothing more. She tried to pry but I threw your name around and that did the trick."

"Good. I don't doubt Miss Granger's loyalty nor her capabilities, but I hoped we could deal with this without involving the students."

Chandra could hear a hint of reproach in the man's voice, but understanding where he came from she didn't let it get to her. It was an expected reaction from the kindhearted headmaster.

"Well, I didn't actually send for Hermione specifically, I asked for someone to extinguish the flames. She was the first person Helena found."

"And what about Madam Umbridge?" asked Dumbledore hiding the ruined diadem in a drawer, almost as if uttering the witch's name would summon her.

"We met the Toad on the way back. I told her I found a dangerous artefact in my office while cleaning up and was bringing it to you. She didn't believe me and insisted to have it. I was this close to setting her on fire when Hermione said that we believed it to be Ravenclaw's diadem and as such you had to be involved anyway. The Toad left looking like she sucked on a lemon. Thankfully –if a bit worryingly– she didn't ask to accompany us."


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: I still own nothing.**

CHAPTER 29 - Martial law

Since no more clues were available on where to look for the last two of Voldemort's horcux, Chandra went back to teaching with Hermione; Liliana tagged along whenever she felt like it. There wasn't much else the two planeswalkers could do: they hardly knew how Voldemort thought, so the help they could offer was marginal at best.

Unfortunately, Umbridge had apparently decided that she had been kept from Hogwarts' secrets one time too many and on the last day of October she had Educational Decree number twenty-three released, which elevated her to the rank of High Inquisitor. Despite not being fluent in legalese –being on the wrong end of the lawmages weapons hardly made her an expert– even Chandra immediately understood it meant the Toad had made an even bigger nuisance of herself. Case in point, every other day a new Decree came out, enforcing some rule about the students' behaviour, school decorum, or giving the odious woman more power to lord over her colleagues. If before her career advance she had had to abide to McGonagall's rules, after becoming High Inquisitor only Dumbledore himself still stood above her, and even he had his hands tied since the Toad acted as an envoy from the Ministry and treated every slight against her person or her position as an act of treason.

And then it got worse.

Part of her new role as High Inquisitor, in fact, was reviewing the teaching standards at the school, which translated into the Toad appearing at random during other professors' lessons to "evaluate" them. Or rather, to harass them with a deluge of questions more often than not only tangentially pertaining to the lesson at hand or their subject in general and more to their private life, ancestry and political agenda. And if what she found wasn't to her complete satisfaction, the pink-clad witch also had the power to sac them, a thing she never missed to remind them.

So it came to no surprise when Chandra opened the door to her Friday classroom to let her students in and found the High Inquisitor with a clipboard in her hands and a malevolent smirk on her face.

"Good morning professor Umbridge," she said reigning in her default first impulse of roasting the woman "Inspection?"

"Of course _dearie_, but don't mind me, do go on as planned," replied the witch in her most saccharine tone.

Chandra nodded and let everyone in. She didn't feel particularly worried about being sacked –she was essentially the only one who could actually teach the class if one excluded Liliana, and the necromancer had made it clear she would contribute only when she felt like it– but the pyromancer had to admit to being a tad nervous nonetheless, if nothing else because there was a pretty high risk of things turning sour with her, Hermione and the Toad in the same room.

"So, last time we viewed Lorwin in all its sunnyness," the redhead began once her students had sat down "But you should remember I mentioned that plane is unique in its cycling between a happy, sunny mode and a darker one. Anyone remembers what the dark aspect is called?"

She was leaning against her desk, arms crossed under her bust, while Hermione sat behind her alternating between taking notes for herself and managing the pensive to project the prepared memories, like she did at that precise moment to show an image of a dark, dreary forest with close to no leaves and claw-like twisted branches.

A boy in Hufflepuff colours raised his hand, and answered correctly to Chandra's question.

"Shadowmoor, that's correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. As you might guess from the name, Shadowmoor is constantly dark and pretty much completely barren apart from near the Kithkins' Clachans, where they cultivate thistles. Even the elves' dense forests are twisted into a collection of dead husks by the Aurora, which you should remember I described as a planar spell of cataclysmic proportions. Who have I mentioned is the only native individual wholly unaffected by the Aurora?"

The next memory was very blurry and depicted a secluded glenn where fairies flitted around, gleaming droplets kept in their tiny hands. In their midst sat a much taller individual with drab blue skin dressed in blooming flowers, her exact features lost to the blurriness.

A Slytherin girl answered the question.

"Right: as your friend said, Oona, the queen of the fae, is the only being that not only knows of the existence of both aspects, but is also immune to the Aurora and can actually manipulate the spell to limit its effects on her subjects. Unfortunately, Oona lives in seclusion in Glenn Elendra and even this small snippet did almost cost my friend life. Nobody can gain audience with the queen in her domain and she never leaves, so nobody can actually investigate the Aurora in its fullness. Now, five points to Slytherin for the answer and let's see how the other races of Lorwin got-"

"_Hem hem_," Umbridge fake-coughed to gain the class' attention, cutting the planeswalker short "While fascinating, what would you say is the benefit of this lesson, _dearie_?"

The pink-clad witch of course knew the moniker irked Chandra, so she used it as frequently as humanly possible. The pyromancer ignored the jab and focused on the question.

"While we can agree that it's improbable –not impossible though– that anyone else in this room might be a planeswalker," explained Chandra in a slow, measured voice, almost as if she thought Umbridge to be particularly stupid "It is far more probable though that someone else out there might come around here. Knowing other cultures and customs might prevent an incident or could give them an edge should the planeswalker in question be hostile. Moreover, knowledge is good in and on itself."

"A pretty remote chance, wouldn't you say?" insisted the Toad purpling up.

"I'm standing in front of you, am I not?" replied the redhead, causing a smattering of snickers to surge through the room.

"Silence!" thundered the witch looking wildly around the room before focusing back on Chandra "This is all well and good, but there is. No. Proof! This course is completely worthless, and as such I'll disband it!"

Silence descended on the room. It was a tense motionlessness, the kind that preluded to something big happening.

Then Chandra closed her eyes and sighed.

"Do as you like," she said fixing her gaze back on Umbridge and waving a hand in a dismissive gesture "See what I care."

"What?" asked not the pink-clad witch –who had apparently de-evolved from toad back to fish– but Hermione.

"You can cancel the course, forbid me to speak of the subject, and even banish me from the castle," clarified the pyromancer, her stare boring holes into the woman in front of her "It won't change who I am nor what I do. It won't magically erase the rest of the Multiverse out there, nor the dangers that inhabit it."

She marched closer to the Toad as her hair slowly ignited.

"So do go on, try to shackle me with your petty decrees," she hissed leaning in the woman's face, who took a step back "But don't cry when your cute illusions topple like the house of cards they are."

She straightened back up and let her gaze roam over the dozens of surprised, awed and scared eyes of her students.

"Class dismissed," she said before walking towards her office.

Nobody moved until she had slammed the door behind her. It was Umbridge the first to regain her wits.

"Well, she's obviously unsuited to teach young impressionable children. The course is officially disbanded," she announced to the class before waddling away, a self satisfied smirk on her face.

Some students cried in protest, others hung their heads as they gathered their things, but everyone soon left the classroom for the last time, leaving Hermione still sitting behind the teacher's desk and the still active pensive. She too stood up after some more minutes, but she went after her friend instead.

"Chandra?" she asked knocking on the office door.

She couldn't hear a sound but it didn't mean much: the offices were all silenced according to _Hogwarts, a history_.

The door was unlocked so she decided to try her luck and open it. Inside the office was absolute mayhem: broken furniture, scorched marks on almost every surface, and in the midst of it stood Chandra, hair and fists ablaze with orange flames, her shoulders raising and falling in time with her ragged, panting breath.

"Oh Chandra..." she muttered, but apparently in the tense silence it was loud enough for the redhead to hear her.

The pyromancer turned sharply to stare at her, the absolute rage in her eyes immediately melting away as she recognized her friend. She heaved a deep sigh and brought herself back in control, extinguishing her flames.

"Sorry," she simply said between gulps of air, her eyes closed "I lost my cool."

Hermione nodded, entered the room and closed the door behind her back. She deftly sidestepped a ruined chair and got closer.

"That woman just lives to rub people the wrong way," she said giving her friend one of her patented bear hugs "I should have intervened."

"You can still be given detentions, it's better if she focuses on me. Still, Dumbledore won't be happy. The Toad is sure to cancel the course now."

"She did," confirmed Hermione releasing Chandra "That doesn't mean she has the last word. I'm sure this time professor Dumbledore will not take it lying down like with Trelawney the other day."

* * *

"Take a seat Chandra," said McGonagall waving at the chair in front of her desk "Tea?"

"No thanks professor," replied the redhead nervously.

It had been almost a week since Umbridge's disastrous inspection to her lesson, and she had a strong suspicion what the discussion was going to be about.

"Minerva please, we're colleagues," said the older woman fixing a cup for herself "I'm sure you can guess why I asked you here."

"A new Educational Decree is coming to disband my course?"

"Indeed," replied the witch nodding sharply "The headmaster is in London trying to have the decision repealed, but it looks glum with a large part of the Wizengamot behind Fudge."

"I see," sighed the pyromancer leaning back as much as the straight-backed chair permitted "It was fun while it lasted."

"It was pleasant working with you Chandra, but I'm not sure this is the end of your teaching career just yet."

The planeswalker arched an eyebrow in silent question, both at the unambiguous statement and at the badly faked casual tone Minerva had used.

"It seems that some students are unsatisfied with the Ministry-approved course plan for defense this year, with our esteemed High Inquisitor too... And that they are all in your corner, as they say, after your altercation with her," explained the woman in the same tone before adding in an even more clearly faked serious tone "By the way I cannot absolutely endorse you talking back to such an upstanding Ministry official. I would have been even more cross had it escalated."

"You want me to teach defense to the students?" surmised the redhead feeling a bit flat-footed by the conversation "Or are you asking me to eliminate Umbridge?"

"Merlin no!" replied McGonagall sitting up straighter "While I absolutely loathe her, I would never ask such a thing!"

"Good, because I don't kill needlessly," commented Chandra, smirking at the woman's shocked expression "So, enough circling the subject: what do I need to know to help?"


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: I own nothing.**

**To the guest comment about the Board: yes, they aren't happy, but they can hardly do much more than rant at the people running the country, especially since Umbridge can produce "evidence" that all she does is in the students best interest. Still, I like your idea and I'd totally go for your nuclear option if it was up to me. Alas, I'm not on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.**

CHAPTER 30 - Insurrection

With barely a sound, only a muted crack easily covered by the crashing waves, a man in black robes apparated on the barren island hosting the wizarding prison of Azkaban. His pale hand lifted a similarly pale wand as more individuals in black started apparating behind him.

"_Confrigo_!" called Voldemort jabbing his wand at the prison's main entrance, which immediately turned into a vast gaping hole under the force of the blasting curse.

Nobody came from the inside, the few guards either too far away or already dead under the rubble.

"Well, this is just disappointing. No, even worse, it's pathetic," commented the Dark Lord with a sneer, lowering his wand marginally before using it to direct his troops "Go, bring back my most faithful servants. The dementors won't stop you."

As one, the Death Eaters moved, silent as shadows.

"Let all Britain know that I am back, to claim what is mine," Voldemort said raising his wand to the sky "_Morsmordre_!"

* * *

Chandra had been skeptical when Minerva had given her a box of biscuits and directed her towards where she knew the Room of Hidden Things to be.

"All will be clear, I can't say anything more," the witch had said not doing anything to hide her cat-that-got-the-canary grin.

So Chandra had gone at the indicated time and found a door where a blank stretch of wall should have been. Guessing it meant that someone was already in the room, she shrugged and knocked. Not that she did actually expect an answer, but despite her track record she didn't believe in deploying extreme measures from the get go. No need to burn a door if someone might open it for you.

"Password?" came a muffled voice from inside, one that despite everything she recognised.

"How does 'I have cookies' sound as a password?" she asked smirking.

Hermione opened the door, then looked up and down the corridor before focusing on her friend, a suspicious expression on her face.

"McGonagall," said the redhead as if it explained everything, then added "I should have guessed you'd be behind this, Liliana has been a terrible influence on you."

Hermione huffed but let her friend in. The room appeared completely different than what she had seen some weeks prior, offering a large open space with training dummies off to one side. Many faces peered at her with obvious curiosity but the emotion by far dominant was fear. She guessed the previous Educational Decree, the one outlawing any study group or student organization was at fault there.

"I'm not sure these cookies will be enough for everyone..." she commented frowning at the box in her hands.

There were lots more students than McGonagall had evidently anticipated, both from various houses and different years. The Gryffindors were an obvious majority, but there could be found smatterings of blue and yellow in their midst, and even a couple of Slytherin students. All in all, there were maybe fifty teenagers, none of whom looked yet convinced that she wasn't about to denounce them to the Toad.

"What are you doing here Chandra?" asked Hermione, certainly more for the assembly's benefit than for her own.

"Well, as of this morning I seem to be out of a job," explained the planeswalker, sounding almost as if she was discussing the weather "But a magical kitten told me some students still needed me, so here I am. With biscuits. From the kitten."

Silence met her statement. Not really surprising in Chandra's opinion: her explanation had been horrible, even if to the point.

"You cannot teach us defense," commented someone from the cowl.

"I can teach you how to fight," replied the planeswalker, confidently staring at the sea of dubious faces.

"Weren't we studying to pass the exams?" one of the Slytherins asked "I didn't sign up for the Rebellion or something."

"Shut up Tracy," hissed her friend stomping on her foot.

"She's right though," a dark skinned Ravenclaw insisted "It's not like we'll need to fight..."

Chandra saw the situation starting to rapidly escalate when Weasley purpled up and went to angrily retort... Something. She wasn't about to let the boy speak, remembering he had all the grace of a rampaging bull cerodon.

She hastily created a firework-like spell and let it go off above her head. A good way as any to catch the assembly's attention.

"You're right of course: normally you wouldn't see any real fight in your whole lives," she said stepping closer to the volatile redhead –and wasn't it weird thinking of someone else as volatile?– and placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from exploding "Unfortunately these aren't normal times: there's a murdering maniac out there who's willing to bring death and war to your homes, and there's a Ministry that will do anything to ignore the ugly reality, up and including sending a delusional dictator-in-training amid schoolchildren."

The two who had protested didn't respond –whether they were cowed by Chandra's words or by her presence was anyone's guess– nor anybody else raised any other objection.

"I will stay and deal with Voldemort –whether it is actually him or some lunatic– but I won't be here forever, and as you can see from the Toad, you cannot count on the Ministry to save you," she continued passionately, trying to channel Gideon "So I will teach you how to fight, so that you'll be ready when you need it!"

"Yeah!" responded around two thirds of the students, obviously fired up by her words.

She guessed she actually could do speeches if needed. Go figure.

"Now, pass the cookies!" demanded Luna trying to grab the box.

That got a stronger reception than Chandra's speech. She inwardly cursed Minerva.

* * *

When they had started, the planeswalker's students had absolutely no idea of how to act on a battlefield: the hotheads –which means those _Chandra_ considered liable to rush head on into danger– charged blindly ten times out of ten; on the opposite side, the thinkers spent too much time thinking every action through even when they couldn't afford to, and they also hardly relied on others to take the right decisions; then there were the unsure ones, who second guessed every choice they made and every order they received; and finally the few actually good ones got dragged down by the others. The pyromancer could only describe the whole situation as a mess.

Luckily, Chandra wasn't the kind of girl to give up at the first sign of adversity: she set up for them to meet twice a week, for as many hours as possible. She had them spar in groups in mock battles to help them learn to trust in their comrades. The Room of Hidden Things proved to be invaluable in recreating various scenarios for them to use, and the pyromancer made them focus on urban warfare and indoor skirmishes since those were the most probable for the teens.

Initially things went slow, but after two weeks her students stared to show some results: the small groups of four people helped forge bonds of trust –especially since she was careful to separate them both from the practical point of view of them being housemates, and both trying to keep compatible personalities together– and encouragement from their peers was more effective in smudging the worst traits and habits than her own words could ever be. By December, the four person teams were working like well oiled machines. Well, more like goblin-built contraptions that sometimes exploded, but well oiled nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore hadn't been idle: reviewing his vast collection of memories pertaining to Voldemort he had identified two probable hiding places. The headmaster had in fact noticed that all hiding places had a meaning to the dark wizard, so he hypothesized that one of the horcrux might be someplace linked with Voldemort's infancy at the orphanage, and isolated two particular spots: the first was a cave near the sea where the children were taken during the summer, the other was the orphanage itself, even if it had meanwhile been demolished and replaced by a parking lot. All that was left was checking them out, something remanded to a time when Liliana was in the castle, as opposed to being in London dillydallying with Fleur.

Unfortunately, Dolores Umbridge hadn't been idle either: since disbanding Chandra's course she had noticed the inexplicable absence of a small number of students and, suspecting a rebellion brewing, decided to respond by creating the Inquisitorial Squad. On paper, it was supposedly an extension to the prefects, students keeping watch to help other students, but they actually were Umbridge eyes and ears. And even worse, they used her as much as she used them: most of them Slytherin, all pureblood supremacists, all bullies and oppressors looking to lord over their fellows. All in all, it was a combination spelling trouble for the rest of Hogwarts and Chandra's little band of rebels in particular.

The pyromancer herself wasn't too worried about the Squad though since Pansy was a member, and she knew full well that the Slytherin girl answered only to Liliana –and not to Umbridge or Voldemort– and once armed with one of Hermione's enchanted coins for communication she was a well of pilfered information eager to supply it. Spy games weren't exactly the redhead's forte, but she had learned the importance of information from Jace and her own mother, and she had always been a quick learner when she cared enough to be.


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: almost forgot to upload this. Luckily I didn't ;)**

**I still don't own anything.**

CHAPTER 31 - Hide & seek

"So you're saying Voldemort has hidden a piece of his soul in a random cave, then made the place as close to impossible to find as humanly possible?" asked Liliana staring at the deceptively empty natural formation from where she stood at its mouth "I can see the logic in that."

"Honestly I don't," commented Chandra illuminating the inside of the cave with the warm light of her ignited hair "Why not leave a fake in the heavily enchanted cave and throw the real horcrux in the ocean? A treasure can be protected by more than traps and guards, as an ex-thief I should know."

"Let us be thankful Tom wasn't one, and that he loved admiring his trophies," commented Dumbledore as his wand danced in the air.

After the shack, he wanted to be a hundred percent sure not to miss any traps. Losing the pyromancer would be disastrous, to say the least.

"The only protection left is a blood ward," he said after some minutes of continued spellcasting "Some blood will open the way."

"Not exactly the greatest idea if Voldemort dabbled in sangromancy," commented Liliana in a bored tone before glancing at Chandra "Think you can open the way?"

The redhead smirked, donned her goggles and nodded before inundating the warded wall with a torrent of red-hot molten matter. The charmed stones fought valiantly but soon collapsed under the assault.

"Give it a minute to cool off," she commented once the path was open.

Inside the cave there was an underground lake with a small basalt island in the center, all utterly silent and motionless, all bathed in an eerie green light. Over to the left of the entrance, on the lakeshore was a wooden pole with a chain going into the dark waters.

"I'll give him a nice eight out of ten for the ambience," mirthfully commented the necromancer looking around "I guess touching the water is a bad idea, right?"

"Indeed," provided Dumbledore, who had resumed his array of detection spells "There's a ward on the surface, some sort of trigger. What it might be linked to though, I can only speculate. Before we go to the trouble of crossing though, can you confirm if there actually is an horcrux here, miss Vess?"

"Too much dark magic, I can't tell," she said after a moment of concentration shaking her head "What I can tell is that the lakebed is literally crawling with zombies, maybe a hundred corpses."

"That must be what's triggered by breaching the water surface," hypothesized the man "Inferi are notoriously hard to stop and Voldemort had a penchant for using them in the last war. Let us avoid waking them if not strictly necessary. And here's a way to do so: that chain goes all the way to the island, if we can get it taut we might be able to cross."

"If he left it there, he _wants_ thieves to use it, so it's a better idea _not_ doing so," reasoned Chandra before turning to Liliana "If something goes wrong, can we take the zombi army? Or better yet, can you control one zombie to do the dirty job for us?"

"There's many but less than on Amonket... I can control all those zombies, and with just one I might be able to direct it decently enough. Headmaster?"

"It might still trigger the ward... Do give me a minute to prepare some defences in case that happens."

Five minutes later, the lakeshore was covered by angry red explosive runes and flame sigils to stop at least the initial wave. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to give Liliana time to release the controlled inferus and enslave the whole army. Failing that, they would retreat back in the cave entrance and collapse it on the undead horde. They'd think on how to destroy the horcrux later on.

Once given the go signal, the necromancer's skin lit up with purple runes as she projected her will onto the closest inferus. A mere minute later, it crawled out of the lake and onto the island. None of the others came.

"So far so good," commented Chandra, a fire ribbon charging above her left shoulder.

"Could be better," replied Liliana, eyes closed to see through the undead's empty eyesockets "The pedestal is actually a basin holding some dark liquid, it might damage the zombie if it's an acid. I don't care, mind you, but it could break my control and wake the others."

"We've come this far, we might as well try," said the pyromancer shrugging "Also, we're prepared just for that."

"Indeed," agreed the headmaster "And if you control falters, we'll know not to touch the potion."

Liliana hummed and focused back on ordering the inferus to grab the glinting trinket barely visible under the dark liquid. The undead plunged its left hand in the inky substance and smoke started raising from the basin in great billows, but her control didn't break and soon her thrall was shambling back to shore, a golden necklace in its rotten hands. Unfortunately, as soon as the inferus' feet touched the water, a loud moan rose from the depths.

"The ward has been triggered, they're coming!" warned Dumbledore readying his wand.

Mere moments later, a mass of writhing, shambling corpses dragged itself out of the lake. Emaciated, pallid skin taut on often exposed bones. Some sported grievous injuries, some were mutilated, but none seemed to care as they moaned and made their way towards the defensive perimeter. Bright orange flames and loud _bangs_ erupted amongst the first line, sending corpses, body parts and rocky chunks flying back, and yet the breathless horde didn't stop. Dumbledore sent large gouts of crimson flames in their midst, and still they came closer. Chandra turned a quarter of the shore into a tidal wave of magma then crashed down on the zombies, but those not charred didn't stop their advance.

"Whenever you want Liliana!" called Chandra preparing another large spell.

Then the horde stopped, if nothing else because half of theme were trying to claw the faces of the other half off in a frenzied manner, purple light shining in their empty eyesockets.

"Good enough for me!" said the pyromancer turning a large patch of the battlefield into a cloud of bright yellow flames, cremating inferi indiscriminately.

Five minutes later, the lakeshore resembled the panorama around Urborg volcanoes: covered in ashes and littered with scorched corpses. Only one inferus still stood, the one carrying the horcrux to its mistress. Or at least, what they had believed to be an horcrux.

"Hey, haven't we already taken care of this gaudy thing?" asked Chandra staring at Slytherin's locket.

* * *

After the fiasco of the horcrux hunt, Chandra had hoped for some peace before the next one. Unfortunately for her it wasn't meant to be: in the last week of November Pansy sent a blanket warning to the members of the defense association regarding a planned raid on the Room of Hidden Things, courtesy of Malfoy. The planned meeting was hastily cancelled with orders to stay hidden while the pyromancer set up a bait in the Room.

Umbridge's face when she blew up the entrance only to find Chandra and Hermione sitting and talking about Innistrad was invaluable, especially since they hadn't technically broken any rule and therefore were completely in the clear.

"Wha-what's going on here?!" demanded the squat witch as soon as she recovered her mental faculties.

"Oh, good afternoon professor," replied Chandra with obviously fake amiability "Since my course got disbanded, I had to make time to teach my successor, as per the Board's request."

"But where are the others?"

"Who might you be referring to professor?" asked Hermione looking around the empty room.

"The rebels!" supplied the woman purpling up.

"Uhm, which rebellion are we speaking of here?" was the pyromancer's pensive reply "Because I'm pretty sure that they count as the new government on Kaladesh nowadays, so they're not technically rebels anymore. On Amonketh, now that's a whole different story..."

"Keep your delusions out of this Nalaar! And the ban on your lessons extends to this, so I want this clandestine meetings to cease right away!" ordered Umbridge before turning towards the three members of the Squad who had accompanied her "You three, scour the room! They must be here!"

They found nobody else, of course.

Despite having pulled one over the Toad, the rebels were hardly safe: their main hideout wasn't safe anymore and Hermione had only barely made it in time to hide the list of members amid her notes before Umbridge's arrival, so she was just a perquisition away from disaster. Also, the pink-clad witch was many things but she wasn't completely stupid: they all had a large target painted on them, and whenever two or more of them congregated someplace there always were members of the Inquisitorial Squad nearby ready to get them in case something prohibited was afoot. It was only a matter of time before Umbridge actually found something, unless they came up with a new hiding place and dropped out of the public eye. Or surrendered, but that wasn't really an option Chandra considered.

Of course, despite the fact that Umbridge had mostly identified them, she couldn't actually do anything more than pester them: with no proof, it was _her_ head that would metaphorically roll if she acted the wrong way.

The rebels initially used a number of obscure secret passages that apparently only the Weasley twins knew of as meeting places, but they were too small for full assemblies and actually got a group caught by the Squad: the youngest Weasley, Thomas, Brown and Gryffindor's Patil got hauled to Umbridge's office to be interrogated, even if the woman herself had been at the Ministry at the time.

"Ok, this has reached breaking point," commented Chandra seeing her pupils getting paraded around like some bizarre and rare catch "Tell the others to meet up where Luna suggested with everything they don't want to leave behind, meanwhile we're breaking our friends out of there."


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: a new week, a new chapter, but always the same disclaimer that I own nothing.**

CHAPTER 32 – Sidealley dodge

Draco Malfoy was worried. It was understandable: despite having caught some of the Gryffindors practicing magic in a collapsed secret passage, professor Umbridge wasn't in her office to punish them, nor she was anywhere else in the castle if the note she had left was to be believed. The real problem though was that every moment he expected to see the door crumple into ashes and Potter –he was _never_ going to call her anything as disgustingly _muggle_ as Nalaar– march into the room to rescue her followers. It was the kind of stupidly Gryffindor thing he had come to expect of her.

Pansy Parkinson was worried too, albeit for a completely different reason: if Nalaar attacked as she was liable to do, the young double agent would be forced to either defend herself –saving her cover but risking the redhead's anger– or to help the pyromancer, which would in turn expose her and potentially displease her Lady. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

Chandra Nalaar wasn't worried in the least. It wasn't the first time she had had to sneak someplace to steal something –even if it actually was the first time the something had been four people– so she had simply dusted one of her old plans, done the due corrections, and went for it. No time for worries at all, they were just distractions.

Hermione was incredibly worried. Chandra had somehow came up with a ludicrous plan, and the bushy haired girl was arguably sure her friend was certifiably insane: most people would have broken in through the door or a window, but the pyromancer had planned a more radical approach of going _through the ceiling_. Because apparently walls were too foreseeable, if the redhead was to be believed. Bloody mental, that's what Ron Weasley would have called her, and for once in her life, Hermione felt inclined to agree with him.

That was an accurate depiction of every major player in the room when, thirty-two minutes after the Gryffindors had been brought in, the high, pointed roof started glowing red hot before melting right above Umbridge's desk and Chandra jumped down from the resulting opening. Malfoy, Crabble and Goyle had barely the time to take out their wands before a volley of fireballs impacted the ground in front of their feet with concussive force, sending them flying in the walls and into Dreamland.

"Lay down your wand and nobody gets hurt," ordered the pyromancer in Pansy's direction while sending a fourth fireball at the locked door.

Recognizing the order as the easy way out it was, the heterochromatic girl threw her wand away and raised her hands in surrender, right on time to for Hermione to cross the heavily damaged door.

All in all, the whole debacle had taken around a minute.

"Wow, that was cool!" commented Weasley looking at Chandra with awe in his eyes.

"Yeah!" agreed Thomas next to him getting up and retrieving his wand.

"Less talking, more getting out before the Toad gets back," ordered the pyromancer cutting the praise-giving short "And someone stun Parkinson!"

Hermione complied, knowing that they had to save appearances, and soon they were barreling down the practically deserted corridors towards the second floor. The few students around hastened to get out of the way from the six runners.

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" asked Patil amid gasping for air "Why are we here?"

"We need to flee the scene," explained Chandra as she guided the group "Umbridge won't take this attack lying down, she's sure to let her dogs at us, possibly even without proof. Minerva and the others won't be able to protect us for much longer, not without consequences. Luna was the only one to provide a hiding place."

"Lovegood is looney," commented Weasley looking behind his shoulders to see if they were being pursued "You cannot possibly believe the Chamber of Secrets is in a bathroom!"

"The ghosts confirmed her words," explained the pyromancer rounding the last corner "Let us hope the others found a way in, or this will be a _very_ short lived rebellion."

They found the rest of the group inside said lavatory, with Bones and her friend Abbot keeping watch just outside the door while the others were scouring the place for some kind of secret passage with Myrtle's help.

"I think they didn't," muttered Hermione coming up next to Chandra.

"Luna, how's it going?" asked the pyromancer making her way towards the petite blonde, who was standing near the faucets.

"I'm great, thanks!" chirped the silver-eyed teen "I wish we could find the entrance though, it's remarkably well hidden…"

"Great, just great… Ok new plan: Brown, Patil, you've got eye for detail, help the others search. Hermione, you and the Weasley twins think up some alternative if this doesn't pan out. I want four wands out of here checking the corridor, while me, Bones and Davis organize the defenses. Everyone else keep looking!"

After having experienced Chandra's taskmaster mode while training, everybody went and did as ordered with no hesitation. It wasn't that they feared some kind of punishment –even if Ron and a couple of others had been subjected to those a number of times– but rather they trusted her to make the smart decisions, what with her being the most experienced of them all.

Soon the strategy proved fruitful: Lavender Brown spotted a small snake engraved on one of the faucets, and that if nothing else meant they were on the right track. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only aspects of the plan that proved useful: the younger Creevy brother run into the bathroom mere moments after the discovery saying that the Inquisitorial Squad was coming.

"Ok, let's not lose our cool," said Chandra patting Denny's head to show he had done a good job and to calm him too "I'll go buy us some time, Bones and Davis are in charge. Focus on slowing tactics and opening that passage. If worse comes to worse, blow the blasted thing up!"

"Myrtle, you saw Ginevra open the chamber, no?" asked Hermione as the pyromancer stalked out of the room, her hair igniting, "How did she do it?"

While her group of rebels discovered that they were a parselmouth short to open the Chamber's entrance, the literal hothead was molding mana in advance, knowing full well that in situations like hers she had a lot of metaphorical heavy lifting to do. The fact that said situation was a conflict between her and a bunch of school children was briefly considered and then ignored.

As soon as she spotted the assailants coming, with Umbridge herself at their help to booth, Chandra created a wastefully large conflagration mere meters ahead of them as a distraction, before starting to retreat while summoning three sequential walls of fire.

"This should buy us some time," she muttered running back.

Meanwhile Hermione and the Weasley twins were trying fruitlessly to emulate the hissing sounds Myrtle remembered from three years prior.

"It should be more _shaa_ and less _hiss_," tried explaining the pigtailed ghost floating just above the marked faucet "A bit higher now."

"Can we even open this…"

"… Or are we just making fools of ourselves?" wandered the elder Weasley brothers doing their usual twin-speak, which helped none in calming Hermione.

"We'll know only if we try," replied the bushy haired witch sounding more and more exasperated.

"But my less handsome brother," went on one of the two, apparently ignoring the girl's words "We always make fools of ourselves!"

"Right you are Gred!" replied the other nodding sagely before resuming with his hissing.

"Wait, I thought I was Forge!"

"Stop fooling around!" ordered the obviously irate witch.

"What's going on here?" asked Chandra, who had entered the bathroom in that moment.

"The Chamber is locked with a password in Parseltongue," huffed Hermione glaring at the twins "And this two buffoons aren't helping any!"

"Just trying to lift the general mood," said the one the claimed to be Gred lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

"Ok, no harm in a little joke now and then but let's focus now. Anything I can help with?" asked the pyromancer looking at Hermione and Myrtle.

"Unless you can speak Parseltongue I don't think so…" sighed the bushy haired teen "It's the language of snakes, a pretty rare talent."

"The password sounded something like this," continued the ghost before adding a hissing sound "Only a tad higher pitched."

Chandra shrugged and gave a shot in replicating the hiss, pretty sure that it would be a bust, so she was understandably surprised when the sink in front of the started sliding into the ground with the grating sound of stone on stone, a feeling mirrored by the four around her. Their surprise was short lived though: cries of warning came from the advanced defensive teams to indicate that their pursuers had finally started passing Chandra's walls of flames.

"One team here with me to defend the entrance," called the pyromancer over the din of the scared students "All the others, down this chute!"

As her companions started getting down the slippery slope that was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets with Myrtle as a vanguard, Hermione, the twins, Bones and Abbot gathered around the planeswalker.

"Ok people we need to buy time for the others so it needs to be suppression fire," explained Chandra "As long as you can cast it fast and repetitively it will be fine. Now follow me."

She jumped out in the open corridor, a salvo of smallish fireballs leaving her hands to fly at the incoming High Inquisitor. The others followed right after her shouting a random assortment of incantations to pelt the Inquisitorial Squad members, who dived for cover behind suits of armor, corners, each other, and everything else that could be used for protection.

"Get them!" shrieked Umbridge as she shielded herself from the initial assault while moving toward the nearest cover.

Unfortunately they were at a standstill: none of the attackers would chance getting taken down only to maybe hit one of the defenders, who in turn had to stand their ground and keep casting. After a couple of minutes though things started to change: while Chandra and the twins were still going strong, the other three were starting to tire and slow down, an opportunity the assailants used to return fire. Two lucky hits got Hermione and one twin, forcing the rest to retreat back to the bathroom.

Fortunately for them, the others had finished evacuating and the sinks were starting to slid back into place so they didn't waste any more time, grabbed their unconscious friends and dived down into the darkness, with only Umbridge screams following them.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: I expect you think I had forgotten to update. And instead here I am with a new chapter! And yet I still own nothing... oh well.**

**Oh by the way, in case it's unclear, the first scene happens before Umbridge's return to the castle and the rebels running for the Chamber.**

CHAPTER 33 – Underworld dreams

Albus Dumbledore reputed himself a man hard to surprise. It was a simple combination of having already seen so much and being very adept both at reading people and at playing the political game. Of course, liberal use of passive legilimency scans had to do with it too, but he didn't believe in invading people's thoughts with no reason. Still, he almost never found himself blindsided by his peers' machinations in the political arena, so it came to no surprise that he had been summoned to London for a Wizengamot special session despite having lost his position in the body. It was a transparent –and if he had to be brutally honest, pretty deluding– strategy to take Hogwarts from him.

He suspected Cornelius to be behind it, the whole plan had his very obvious signature, no doubt supported by Tom's followers. The elderly headmaster still could scarcely believe the near-sightedness and absolute stubbornness their esteemed Minister was showing despite Tom's more than overt display at Azkaban. It was probably Dolores' contribution, the woman was even more delusional than Cornelius himself; Albus was almost tempted to check if she had taken the Mark, it was a more sensible explanation than believing she really was that blind.

That line of thought followed him as he made his way to the Wizengamot chambers, for once accessing from the public entrance instead of the member's one. Again unsurprisingly, most of the present were supporters of either Tom or Cornelius, with just a smattering of the neutrals, but none of the light faction had been summoned apparently. Shaking his head, Albus made his way to the benches for the spectators and sat, massaging his left knee. He wasn't getting any younger, it seemed.

Soon the meeting was called to order by the acting Supreme Warlock, Pius Thickneese, and the headmaster had to take the floor. Dolores was there too in her capacity as Senior Undersecretary, gleefully presenting her "proofs" that not only he was an incompetent headmaster –something that most of the present knew to be false first-hand having been his pupils– but also either senile or downright treasonous.

Looking at the faces of those in attendance, he saw that nobody really believed the woman but they didn't particularly care either. He suddenly felt very old, almost as if only then all his years had caught up to him. He was supposed to defend himself, to repel her accusations, and yet he could already see that nothing he could actually say was going to change anything. The fools had come to throw a fabricated verdict, his presence or his words were of little consequence.

"Very well done Dolores," he said cutting the woman short to the obvious surprise of many of the gathered "You caught me red handed it seems."

"What?" she croaked uncomprehendingly.

"Oh, don't be modest now, it's obvious you saw my real colours," continued Albus in his usual grandfatherly tone.

"Yes well," replied Umbridge trying to save face "I didn't expect you to just admit to it."

"I imagine," he replied, a twinkle clear in his eyes "One usually does not simply admit to being instrumental to forming a rebel army. This causes a question to arise though."

"Which is?" asked Cornelius, obviously too stunned to act with the necessary firmness for one in his position.

"I'd say it's pretty obvious Cornelius: what now?"

"Uh?" was the man's intelligent reply "What do you mean? Now I'll call the aurors and have you arrested."

Albus repressed a sigh. So predictable. It almost wasn't even worth the effort.

"Cornelius, who am I?"

"He's so old he forgot his own name!" crowed Lord Goyle from his seat.

Useless to say, he made his son Gregory seem smart. Still, a smattering of laughs followed the jeer. Albus found it a really sad thing.

"You're Albus Dumbledore," replied the Minister ignoring the comment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see what was the headmaster's angle.

"Right, but I meant something else," said Albus without letting his benevolent smile fade "I'm the vanquisher of Grindelwald, and the only wizard alive able to outduel Voldemort. Who can you call that would be able to subdue me if I choose to resist?"

Silence met his question. Apparently, they had gotten used to his amiability and had forgotten that he was one of the most accomplished spellcasters alive. A sufficient number of coordinated aurors would of course take him down, he wasn't _that_ powerful, but he knew that Cornelius couldn't possibly gather that many without Amelia noticing, and then his little political ploy would topple faster than one could say Wizengamot.

How lucky for the man that all that posturing was actually useful to the old headmaster.

"Fortunately for you Cornelius, I don't plan to resist," he said when he had left them stew long enough.

"Well, that will surely help your case later on," commented the visibility relieved Minister "Dolores, please go summon the aurors waiting outside the door."

"Right away Minister!" replied the zealous woman.

"Oh, you seem to be under another misconception Cornelius," he said as she got up, freezing them all in their places "I said I wouldn't resist, but I never said I'd go with the aurors. Fawkes."

In a brilliant explosion of golden fire, his old friend materialized above him and landed on his shoulder.

"I'll be taking my leave now, wouldn't want to steal any more of your _valuable_ time," he said stroking the phoenix's plumage "Ladies and gentlemen, goodbye!"

And with that he flamed back to his office in Hogwarts. He had to secure it against Dolores' snooping.

* * *

The slope continued into the darkness for almost a full minute before discharging the six teens on a carpet of something frail that Chandra immediately recognised as bones. Trying not to dwell too much on why were bones at the Chamber's entrance, she pushed herself to a sitting position and lit up her hair to provide light.

"Anyone injured?" she asked her companions, letting her gaze wander over the teens.

A series of nays and grunts was her answer. Some pain from the less than ideal landing and the carpet of rodent bones she surmised. Since there didn't seem to be any life threatening injuries, the pyromancer diverted her attention to her surroundings: they were in what looked like a well, a hub in the pipework of the castle, with many chutes ending into it, likely from other hidden entrances like the one they had used. There was also a large archway that led somewhere else, probably to the Chamber proper. A faint silvery light filtered from that direction, suggesting that the rest of her group had gone in that direction.

Chandra got up, helped the others, and then all together they made their way towards the light. They walked a short way in a roughly carved corridor, which then opened in a vast natural cave containing what looked like a large skeleton of a snake, probably as long as the dragon the pyromancer had faced the previous year, and a large construction of some kind closed off by an ornate bronze door themed after snakes. In front of that door they saw the other students making up the rebels. As soon as they got in sight, Davis rushed closer, a worried expression etched on her face. It soon became apparent that despite having escaped Umbridge's clutches, they had ended up in a dead end: the portal was closed, and there was no way to go up the slippery slopes to return to the castle; they had effectively trapped themselves.

"We cannot even force our way past the door," supplied Davis' friend, Greengrass "It's goblin made and warded even heavier than the castle's gates."

"What about the walls?" was Chandra's response to that statement.

"The walls?"

The planeswalker smirked triumphantly.

"Welcome to scoundrel 101," she said marching up to the wall a couple of meters off the majestic portal and placing a hand on it "First lesson: doors are for those that lack imagination."

Her hand lit up in flames as did her hair. She used her free hand to don her goggles before igniting that too and placing it next to the other.

"Walls are a bit too foreseeable, as I told Hermione earlier," she continued as the wall started taking a dark red hue near where she was touching it "Lawmages start to expect them after the first few times, but a wall will do when you cannot access the roof or the floor."

Students started distancing themselves from her when the air started to get first hot, then downright sweltering. Soon part of the masonry started leaking down in glowing rivulets around the focused redhead.

"But remember, walls are usually thicker than everything else other than floors, and these in particular are remarkably so."

Despite her words it took her less than five minutes to actually melt her way through the wall. It was a passing hole barely large enough for a cat to Crawl through, but she surely had tunnelled her way across the wall. She took a step back panting heavily and surveyed her work.

"Whew, that was pretty hard," she said wiping her brow and replacing her goggles "I can't do anything else without some rest, but do feel free to practice that blasting hex of yours on the hole. Take care not to spray yourselves or the others with molten rock, that stuff hurts."

She then sat down near where Hermione and Abbot were still lying unconscious and stared at the collected students expectantly.

"You heard professor Nalaar?" called Bones from where she was sitting nearby "ten people at time, half of them use shields, the other half _bombarda_ and _reducto_ as if they're going out of style! Get casting people!"


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34 – Evil presence

The Chamber of Secrets had obviously seen better days, it was evident from the patches of moss growing everywhere and the pools of stagnant water. Certainly the gaping hole disrupting the orderly snake-themed decor of the walls didn't help any. Yet it was clear that it had been grandiose once upon a time, with its massive size and carved statues resembling open snake maws. Chandra personally felt that the giant statue of Salazar Slytherin was a tad too much. Still, in disrepair or not, it was a decent hideout, albeit one requiring much work. Thankfully for them, Earthborn magic was much more versatile than what she was used to.

They received an unexpected visit from the headmaster, who appeared in a ball of golden flames in the middle of the room.

"Well, quite an unusual place to meet my dear," he commented letting his gaze wander the room "May I inquire why you brought this many students in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Good afternoon headmaster. To answer your question in a word: Umbridge," Chandra replied dusting her hands "She became bolder and openly moved against our little rebellion, wands blazing and all that. You'll have to keep an eye on her."

The pyromancer had been helping moving around some debris that had accumulated over time, so she was a bit dusty. It wasn't the best job for her, but she had already summoned a litter of playful baby pyrolynxes to ward off the cold and simply sitting while her companions did all the work felt wrong to her.

"Alas, she has become bolder as you say because she unseated me as headmaster as well," Dumbledore explained while scratching a curious pyrolynx that had wandered over to play with the hem of his robes "It is therefore fortuitous that she couldn't get any of you before me. Let us be thankful for small mercies. I'll advise Minerva to be more careful."

"No kidding: after missing all of us she'll be on the warpath for sure. Thankfully we're far out of her reach."

"Unfortunately, I'm not here to merely ascertain your wellbeing: I found another... Of _those_ items," he revealed after a brief pause to evaluate how private their discussion was "Is miss Vess here too?"

"No, she borrowed Featherbright –Hermione's phoenix– yesterday to visit Fleur and I haven't seen her since," the redhead said shaking her head before furrowing her brow "Thankfully nobody needed a healer..."

"We shall do without her then," the elderly man's brow furrowed too "I fear time to be of the essence: Dolores' ploy significantly weakened us, at least on the surface, and I doubt Tom won't abuse the opportunity for all its worth."

"Ok then, let me establish some form of chain of command and we'll be on our way," she replied nodding before motioning him to follow her.

The pyromancer guided the ex-headmaster towards the middle of the room where they had established a temporary command post. There, she nominated Hermione and Davis temporary leaders and explained that she had to leave with Dumbledore for an important mission. The elderly wizard, after commending them for their effort, summoned two of the castle house elves to help them, with the only stipulation not to mistreat them. Shortly after that, he and Chandra flamed away with Fawkes.

* * *

Since phoenix fire travel is hardly inconspicuous it is wholly inadequate for muggle areas, therefore Fawkes dropped Chandra and Dumbledore in a warded alley not too far from the Leaky Cauldron, the same one that every year the professors use to come meet the newcomer muggleborns. With a few waves of the wizard's wand the two of them were dressed as inconspicuously as possible and ventured out into the busy streets of the British capital.

"Where are we going exactly?" asked Chandra as she tried to drink in everything she saw around her.

If the Wizarding World had offered some peculiar sights, the muggle side was presenting her with marvels beyond her wildest dreams, and as the daughter of two of Kaladesh best tinkerers she felt bound to try and investigate every bit of technology she saw. And while cars and planes were hardly something new to her, she had never seen buildings so tall out of the Spire of Industry, nor could she fathom the function of the little boxes she saw some people talking into.

"As you certainly recall, Tom grew up in a muggle orphanage here in London," replied Dumbledore guiding her "I believe that he hid one of his... Trophies there."

"If he's so fixated with his past I guest that's a definite possibility... How are getting in though? We hardly look like a couple out to adopt a child: I'm too young myself and you're a bit too old for me. No offense."

"None taken my dear, it is the truth after all: I'm older than what your grandparents would have been hadn't they succumbed to dragon pox," he jovially replied patting her left hand "As for entering, Wool's Orphanage was closed many years ago and brought down some time after that. It became an office block for a decade before ending up as what muggles call a parking lot."

"I don't have the faintest idea of what that may be, but from how you said it I guess it's easier to enter, right?"

"From what I gathered, it's a place where muggles store their cars while out on business and it should be freely accessible to everyone," explained the old man "Unfortunately, I sincerely doubt that Tom has placed no protections of his own on the location."

It took the two of them almost an hour to walk all the way to the place that had seen Voldemort's infant years, and when they did they found a towering structure in concrete that looked like a hollowed out tower holding a number of the colourful muggle cars.

"Any idea where to start?" asked Chandra giving the building a calculating look "Or of what we're looking for?"

"I must admit it is quite different from what I imagined... Nevertheless, the item should be magically hidden underground or around the actual structure."

"You're probably right, I cannot see it staying undiscovered after that big of a change to the scenery..." agreed the redhead moving her gaze to the ground floor.

"As for the what, it could be Hufflepuff's cup or a yet unknown item," said Dumbledore making his way towards the nearest access "I fear we'll know for sure only once we've found it."

There was no guard at the entrance, so Chandra guessed that either muggles were incredibly naive, the cars had their own in-built security system, or there was an automated one of some kind in the building. She made her observations known to Dumbledore.

"I believe muggles have a mean of scrying remote locations through the use of their technology. Quite fascinating, but definitely bothersome in our situation," he explained discretely pointing towards a wall fixture equipped with a lens on one side "Let us try to avoid using magic in sight of those hanging apparatuses."

The pyromancer shrugged. It wasn't like she was actively using magic. If she did, those machines would be the last of their troubles as she was their problem-solver.

The building wasn't as high-rising as others around it, but it did go down into the ground. Unfortunately, without knowing where it stood in relation to the old orphanage it was impossible to say if actually going down was useful or not. The natural light filtering from the open sides of the structure got soon replaced by artificial illumination in a sterile white hue that did nothing to make the place more appealing. Evidently, whoever had built the parking lot had had function in mind rather than aesthetics.

After descending two levels underground they reached the lowest floor, which was even drearier than the upper ones. Apparently, nobody had wanted to park their cars on that floor since there were none to be seen; there was also some form of water infiltration problem judging from the pools of stagnant, fetid water that marred the floor.

"Is it just me, or does this floor look in dire need of repairs?" asked Chandra donning her goggles and tying an handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

"Unless I'm wrong, this is the effect of Dark magic pollution," said Dumbledore tracing a complex path with his wand "Oftentimes, locations where powerful Dark artefacts are hidden suffer effects similar to those you see here."

"Like Grimaud Place?"

"Indeed," he replied with a nod before pointing to the furthest wall "This way."

In the point more distant from the access ramp, under a set of malfunctioning lights, stood an unassuming stretch of wall that looked more battered than the surrounding ones. It was a pretty damning outward sign if Chandra had ever seen one.

"There's a pretty strong set of wards beyond this wall, of the lethal variety I suspect," explained the old man tracing more and more complex paths with his wand "I'm quite sure the structure is not tied to them."

"This isn't the first alternative entrance I create today," replied Chandra cracking her knuckles and placing both hands on the wall "Stay back please."

"Let me my dear," protested the headmaster "Save your strength for the actual defences."

With a simple flourish of his knobby wand, Dumbledore transfigured the ruined wall into a nice looking archway. Unfortunately, that did nothing from the wall of packed dirt behind it. Half an hour and some cubic metres of mud vanished later, the two finally found an old looking stone wall.

"The orphanage's cellar?" suggested Chandra knocking on the stones to check if there was a room beyond.

"Possibly," agreed Dumbledore before cautioning her "This is where Tom hid his horcrux. The wards start right beyond the wall, it seems. I'll create an opening now, be prepared."


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: originally, I wanted to make this chapter my Christmas present for you all, but quality would have suffered so I opted to keep my usual schedule.**

**Still, I hope you all had a merry Christmas and will have a happy new year!**

CHAPTER 35 – Neglected heirloom

The wall was swiftly transfigured into another archway and Chandra could see into the room. If it had been a cellar, it was the lousiest one she had ever seen: there weren't no barrels for the beverages nor shelves for the food. It was completely and utterly barren save for a singular suit of armour standing in the middle of the room, facing what must have been the correct way in judging by the collapsed wooden stairs.

"It is either the armour or the sword," said Dumbledore holding the wand in his palm like she had seen him do quite often that day "Unfortunately, both are made of goblin-wrought silver, an extremely powerful material."

"I still marvel at what all the things this plane's goblins can do, but let's not digress," replied the pyromancer igniting her hair "Anything I should know of that silver?"

"It's incredibly resilient, both to wear and to external damage. Most spells won't even put a scratch on that suit of armour, I fear," explained the old wizard while casting some manner of spell "Also, the ward isn't immediately lethal but it's meant as a trigger. I suspect the armour is actually animated."

"Living armours and weapons are a bother, but there's only a small number of metals that won't melt under my flames. Unless that thing is somehow made of darksteel, I can deal with it. Well, probably at least."

"Do account for the fact that horcrux are far more resilient than ordinary items made from the same materials," he warned without chasing his casting "But let us first see if I can bypass this ward and avoid the confrontation entirely."

Before Chandra could say anything more though, the armour's helmet turned to "stare" at them.

"What? The ward is still intact! It shouldn't have noticed us yet!" lamented Dumbledore assuming a ready position.

The armour turned completely and unsheathed its ruby-encrusted sword.

"Seems plenty awake to me," commented the pyromancer gathering mana in her hands "Let's go back towards the parking lot, this bottleneck is hardly ideal to fight."

The suit took a slow, clanking step forward, then it started walking more fluidly, almost as if it had been unsure of the first one. In the light projected by Chandra's hair, the rubies on the silvery sword gleamed an ominous blood-red.

"Run!" shouted the redhead converting the mana she had gathered into a large, bright orange fireball.

Both humans started running as fast as they could. Had they cared to stay and watch, they would have seen the armour take a step back from the fireball's impact before resuming its advance as if a spell able to kill a man was nothing more than a minor distraction.

It wasn't exactly a chase as the armour didn't look to be in any hurry to reach its targets, but it nevertheless ended once the construct entered the parking lot and got engulfed in into an explosion of yellow flames, shortly followed by a number of spikes emerging from the ground to stab where it had stood. Before Chandra could inquire on whether or not they had succeeded, the armour jumped out of the fire, once again with no visible damage and its sword raised overhead and ready to strike her down. The redhead jumped to the side –the metal biting her right arm briefly– as a veritable hail of exploding curses pelted the armour and it surroundings.

Either the flames or the explosions had set off some kind of alarm in the muggle building and it started ringing while from a collection of pipes on the ceiling a rain of smallish water droplets started pouring.

Ignoring both the rain and the curses, the living armour sprinted towards Dumbledore, weapon obviously poised to stab. While the wizards spun on its heel and apparated across the room, Chandra took a moment to study their opponent. She had met her fair share of swordmasters in her travels across the planes –the most recent being Djeru and Samut, both expert in the use of the kopesh– and certainly the armour didn't move like one: its attacks were too telegraphed, she could clearly see what it planned on doing; had she been a swordmaster herself, taking down such an opponent would have been embarrassingly easy. That said, the construct compensated its shortcomings in swordplay with its apparent indestructibility and endless stamina. And a sword that could apparently easily cut concrete and chainmail as if they were butter, that helped too. To destroy the thing they needed either to stop it long enough for her to melt it, or alternatively to start dismembering the thing and hope it couldn't regenerate like Liliana's minions or Tezzeret's spidery constructs.

Seeing as the armor was still occupied with the animals Dumbledore had transfigured from the debris of his previous attack, she kneeled down and gathered mana for a summon. She needed something big enough to last more than a few seconds against the armour's wicked sword. Unfortunately, most elementals she knew that would make the cut were so large that they would have brought the whole parking lot on their heads; thankfully, there was one that was just right for the situation. Flames went up in front of her, soon coalescing into a humanoid figure like when she had summoned Handsome for the Yule Ball. Differently from that time though, the figure got more and more definition as the seconds passed, before ultimately resolving in a creature that looked like a broad man with spiked hair made entirely of dark crystals or obsidian and live flames pouring out of its collar bones, eyes and the back of its head. It wielded two glowing swords that looked made out of solidified fire and wore the traditional armour of his kin, that is to say a scaled skirt over sturdy pants and boots, with the addition on two metal bracers.

"Thanks for coming Firebrand," she said getting up and shaking the flamekin's hand "I've got an opponent for you."

She had met Firebrand on Lorwyn and had been impressed by his absolute mastery of the flamekin's Flowing Blade style. He had agreed to be summoned on the condition that he would fight only strong warriors. Lorwyn was far too peaceful for the swordman's tastes, and he feared his abilities would rust long before his weapons.

"Duty, my fair lady," replied the elemental with a nod before focusing on the armour that was once again charging at Dumbledore "Not exactly a worthy one though."

"Its swordplay is terrible, I won't deny that, but it's a living armour and a nigh indestructible one at that," she explained pointing at the still unblemished construct "It has to count for something, no?"

"Ah, a contest of endurance rather than one of skill? That I can do my fair lady!" he said before exploding into a roaring laugh "This will be a duel for the chronicles!"

That said he rushed ahead, swords crossed in front of his chest, flames following in his steps and wisps of vapour raising from where the droplets hit him. Sensing the incoming threat, the armour turned to face the newcomer, who tried a cross slash that trailed flames in the air. Despite the glaring lack of skill, the fight soon became a standstill: no matter how many hits Firebrand scored, the armour soaked up the damage and replied with deadly slashed that the swordmaster had to parry or dodge. Fortunately for him, the whirling strikes of the Flowing Blade style were well suited for deflection.

While the two swordsmen were busying each other, Chandra rushed to Dumbledore's side. The old man was breathing hard for the exertion but looked to be fine. He immediately gave her his attention.

"Firebrand cannot win this alone, sooner or later that thing will score a hit. I can destroy both armour and sword at the same time, but I need a couple of minutes to build mana, and then the spell isn't the fastest acting I have. Can you stop that thing somehow? Some seconds will suffice."

"It will be difficult, but with your friend providing a distraction I just might succeed," replied Dumbledore stroking his beard "I'll need some moments to cast the spell."

"Do it, Firebrand is used to tag team with me but unless you're planning on using water it shouldn't be too much of a difference."

With that both focused on their respective spells.

Meanwhile Firebrand had been forced on the defensive and was doing his level best to parry, deflect or dodge the armour's relentless slashes. He had never seen in his life such a durable material, nor an opponent as stubborn as that, but he knew that his lady was cooking up something. His lady had often tried to make him see that being alive was better than being honourable, but he never accepted her help unless it was an unsurmountable opponent like that living armour or their numbers were too great.

Right on time to save him from a missed parry, the ground under the two swordsmen feet turned to quicksand. Since the flamekin's style was based on agility, Firebrand managed to jump away before the treacherous terrain took hold. The armour wasn't as quick and started sinking. Before anyone could comment, Chandra created a fireball the size of a human head made of pure white flames, so bright that even the elemental had to avert his gaze, and threw it at the construct. Unfortunately, sensing its imminent demise, the armour used the opportunity to throw his own weapon at the wizard as if it had been a javelin, catching him by surprise. A hastily conjured armchair slowed the deadly attack, though the man still got his stomach pierced; at the same time the fireball exploded against its intended target, engulfing the armour and the surrounding quicksand into a cleansing nova of searing flames. An inhuman scream came from the raging inferno as it pushed outward before collapsing on its central point and dying down to reveal a field of molten glass surrounding a pile of silvery slag.

Wasting no more time to appreciate her handiwork, Chandra called Fawkes as she knelt by the headmaster's side. The faithful bird appeared in a fiery explosion and hopped closer to its bonded.

"Find Poppy!" she ordered taking the jewelled sword out of the man's gut and using strips of his silken robe to staunch the bleeding "Snape too! Go!"

The firebird trilled mournfully at its old friend before flaming away. Firebrand knelt near them and helped as he could. The falling rain had fortunately stopped around the time when the last fireball had hit its mark, otherwise it would have made their job even harder.

Of course though, misery loves company so it was only in that precise moment that Chandra realized that the alarm had been joined by a siren of some kind and that she could hear a number of booted foots rushing down from the upper levels.


	36. Chapter 36

**AN: AAnew year and a new chapter. With this we close the penultimate horcrux hunt, and we start a couple of low-key chapters befibe the build-up to the finale.**

**By the by, I still own nothing.**

CHAPTER 36 – Primal beyond

"My lord," said Lucius Malfoy rushing into the room before prostrating himself at the bald wizard's feet "I've got excellent news from the Ministry."

"Indeed Lucius?" inquired Voldemort raising an inexistent eyebrow and stifling his first impulse to punish his servant's abruptness in interrupting his strategizing "Then do tell this excellent news."

"That fool Fudge actually did it, my lord," said the blond looking up, excitement clear in his tone and features "He got Dumbledore removed from Hogwarts! He's been declared undesirable number one and is wanted alive to face trial before the Wizengamot!"

Voldemort paused. Could it really be that simple? His biggest obstacle removed from the board by a mere pawn? His ruby eyes bored into Lucius'own.

"You were there?"

"Yes my lord."

The dark wizard didn't wait a second more to use legilimency on his servant and see the relevant memory. Since Lucius had proved valuable, he did try not to be needlessly violent with his scan. Still, he had never been exactly subtle.

Once he had gotten what he was looking for, he left his servant mind and started cackling.

"Call my inner circle Lucius!" said Voldemort in obvious glee "There's much to be done!"

"M-my l-l-lord," feebly said the blonde from where he was twitching on the floor.

"Oh right," muttered the Dark Lord before calling "Avery! Come attend me!"

* * *

"Firebrand, you have to go!" said Chandra looking the flamekin in the eyes "People of this plane don't know anything about magic, they'd react badly to seeing you."

"I understand," replied the swordsman nodding.

"Thanks for coming and risking your life once again," she offered with a smile "Pass my regards to Ashling."

"It was a pleasure, my fair lady," he said getting up before bowing at the waist "See you again soon."

And with those parting words, she sent him back to Lorwyn. One problem solved, two remaining.

She looked around hoping against hope to find something to distract the newcomers long enough for Fawkes to come back, then she cursed under her breath for being so distracted. Moving her left hand to better hold the makeshift gauze, she half turned around and focused on the access ramp, then summoned a fire wall at the base of it.

"That should be distracting enough..." she muttered turning back towards Dumbledore "Now, what to do with you?"

He was pale, deathly so. She briefly wondered if the blade had been poisoned, or maybe cursed, but decided that either way she could hardly treat the man: her knowledge of field medicine amounted to cleaning wounds, bandaging them and, in extreme cases, cauterizing them with live fire. None was exactly adequate in the specific situation. She sighed again, why Fawkes was taking so long?

* * *

Albus opened his eyes to a blinding light and a distressingly familiar voice calling him.

"You have to get up brother, our time is short," said the young, female voice.

Finding in himself an energy he didn't believe he had anymore, the old man sprang up to lock eyes with his interlocutor. Bright blue eyes like his own in a face still as young and beautiful as he remembered it. The same cyan dress she had in Aberforth's portrait, the same serene expression.

"Arianna..." he whispered raising a trembling hand to stroke her cheek, just like he had done the last time he had seen her.

Differently from that time, the girl smiled and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yes brother."

"Then it is time for me to embark in the next great adventure?" he asked staring at his dead sister's face "Have you come for me?"

"Yes and no brother," she replied smirking at him with a twinkle in her eyes, just like she had used to do when she felt up to no good "I came for you, but the rest is up to you."

"Up to me?" he echoed uncomprehendingly.

"Yes brother, you can choose to go on or to return," she explained guiding him to a nearby bench.

It was only then that he looked around himself, before he hadn't dared to look away from his sister for fear she might disappear like a dream. They were sitting on a bench in what looked like a graveyard, Godric's Hollow to be precise, but everything was white, with a diffused light gleaming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"I can stay with you?" he asked refocusing his eyes on her.

"You can brother," she agreed with a nod before tilting her head to the side, twinkle in her eyes "But if you so choose, are you ready to face the truth?"

"About that day?" he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Yes brother," she replied solemnly, no trace of twinkle this time.

"I'm sorry Arianna," he said taking her other hand and squeezing "I'm so, so sorry."

"I know big brother," she said smiling gently at him while wiping his tears "I heard you every time."

Their conversation lulled into silence as he wept what never was because of him and she consoled him.

"I'm ready for the truth Arianna," he said after his tears had dried up.

She smiled again but asked: "What about your students? And those that count on you? And big brother Aberforth?"

"It seems I'm a busy man even now," he chuckled weakly, his customary twinkle in his eyes "So much that I don't have time to die."

"Your friend Minerva was right when she said so, it seems," she chuckled back before adding "I'm happy you choose to go back big brother."

"Will you still be here?" he asked hopeful.

"Yes brother, for you and for Aberforth too. I promise."

"Thank you Arianna," he said getting up and starting to walk towards the gates.

"Big brother Albus," she called him when he was a few scant meters from his mark.

"Yes Arianna?"

"It wasn't you that killed me, big brother," she said smiling at him.

"Thank you, Arianna."

* * *

"I've done all I can, he'll need plenty of rest now," said Madam Pomfrey closing the makeshift tent around Dumbledore's bed "Though I'd prefer if he was in the hospital wing or in Saint Mungo..."

The reason for her critique was that Fawkes had brought them all back in the Chamber of Secrets after she had stabilized the headmaster, and despite all the work both students and elves had done, it was still considerably less tidy than a sterile hospital room. Of course, since he was a wanted man it wasn't like he actually had the option.

"That much I can guarantee he'll have," agreed Chandra smiling relieved.

She had been nearing her wits end when Fawkes had finally arrived with the two faculty members. Both had immediately started working on the elderly wizard, but she had been left uncertain if he would survive. Knowing that the old man wasn't done yet and that she hadn't messed up was really relieving to the pyromancer.

She sat back on a nearby chair, a pyrolynx climbing in her lap and starting to purr loudly demanding attention.

"I'll have his potions delivered via house elf before the morning," said Snape looking around with undisguised interest "Do try to keep the place as intact as possible, this is an incredible discovery."

"Hopefully this will be just a temporary hideout, but we'll try our best," promised the redhead petting the kitten in her lap "And thanks for your help with those muggles..."

"It is in my best interest too," he said curtly before adding "I wish you hadn't left such obvious traces but beggars can't be choosers, as they say."

"Oh, lighten up Severus," chastised him the hospital matron before turning towards Fawkes "I must return to my other patients, can you help me?"

After the two members of the faculty had left a group of students came closer, curious about all the commotion.

"He won't rat us out, won't he?" asked the youngest Weasley sounding visibly unsure.

"He likes Umbridge even less than he likes you," joked Chandra chuckling "Don't worry, he's an ok guy under all the snarky remarks and the caustic personality."

"Is that Gryffindor's sword?" asked Hermione pointing at the weapon lying abandoned on the floor not far from where her friend sat "Where did you find it?"

"And how did Dumbledore get injured?" demanded Bones shooting not-so-furtive glances at the closed tent.

"Would you believe me if I told you I found it in a parking lot in London?" asked back Chandra chuckling at their confused expressions.


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: welcome back for another chapter, of which I still own nothing.**

CHAPTER 37 – Quest for ancient secrets

"I go away for the weekend, barely forty-eight hours, and you end up in a legendary dungeon with a group of rebel students and get Dumbledore injured," surmised Liliana crossing her arms in front of her as she sat near the old man's bed with her fellow planeswalker "Only you Chandra, only you."

"It's not like everything's my fault!" petulantly protested the redhead "And we got another horcrux!"

She wasn't being careless: the headmaster had erected a privacy ward around his bed for just that reason.

"And a shining sword, I saw it mounted proudly above that gaudy statue," said the necromancer pointing with her chin in the item's general direction, before turning towards the bedridden wizard "So, how bad was it, actually?"

"It could have been a disaster of massive proportion, both for the war effort and the Wizarding World at large," he admitted stroking his beard "Miss Nalaar quick thinking in getting Poppy and Severus and stopping the muggles saved more than just my life. All in all, I'd say it went quite well."

"See?" smugly asked Chandra, sounding exactly like the teenager she was.

It was actually hard for the necromancer remembering her fellow planeswalker's actual age, both due to the fact that she often acted much more mature than most, and the simple fact that with an as wide a disparity in ages as she had with the rest of the Gatewatch, Liliana often felt they were all children compared to her. There weren't that many individuals that could flaunt being around for a millennium, after all.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night, dear," she said dismissing that line of inquiry before breaching a different topic "So, any idea on where to find the last phylactery?"

"Sadly no," admitted Dumbledore with a tired sigh "Even knowing with near certainty that it is Hufflepuff's cup, being confined in here limits my avenues of research. Also, we have already investigated all places in Britain that held some meaning for Tom."

"I'm guessing from how you speak of it that this cup emerging somewhere would be widely a known fact, right?" asked Liliana humming, obviously deep in thought "So either it is buried somewhere like the locket was supposed to be, or it's otherwise hidden in a place that hasn't seen human presence in the last few decades."

"That sounds sensible," agreed the headmaster "Unfortunately, it's impossible to know which one is correct, nor to scry the location."

"Let's try a different approach then," suggested Chandra snapping her fingers "The other horcrux were all hidden in places that meant something to Voldemort?"

"Well, actually no: his diary was found in possession of Ginevra Weasley. It was hard getting the memory from her, as her mind has been devastated by Tom, but she recalled finding the diary after visiting Diagon Alley with her family. After visioning the memory numerous times, I can say that either it had been given her by Flourish and Blotts' clerk or by Lucius Malfoy."

"We can safely assume it's Blondie's dad at fault here," said Chandra nodding "So he either knew where the diary was hidden, or was hiding it himself on Voldemort's orders."

"I'd never give any of my minions my phylactery," countered Liliana shaking her head "No matter how many others I have or how competent they are. It's plainly stupid."

"You wouldn't tell him the hiding place either. Moreover, he gave it away, so either Blondie senior has a death wish or he wasn't told it was a horcrux," reasoned the pyromancer smirking.

"Knowing Tom, he kept this particular secret to himself and gave Lucius the diary to keep safe, probably presenting it as some kind of weapon or as the way to release the Chamber's monster," commented Dumbledore stroking his beard "Lucius was and still is one of Voldemort's most trusted, even among his inner circle."

"One of the most? Not his right hand man?" asked Liliana frowning "Why not give it to the one he trusted most?"

"Maybe he did," suggested Chandra "Maybe he gave the cup to his favourite dog."

"Unfortunately, Bellatrix Lestrange was sentenced to Azkaban after Tom's defeat and all her properties seized by the Ministry. Had she owned the cup, it would have been found then," countered the wizard.

"My godfather's possessions weren't seized though," protested the redhead frowning "Nor were mine or yours after yesterday's debacle."

It was in fact well known that both her and the ex-headmaster had been declared wanted alive for trial, yet Gringotts' hadn't contacted either about their finances being frozen or sequestrated.

"We haven't been condemned yet, as for Sirius Black he still had living relatives who claimed ownership. Bellatrix had no such convenient escape routes... Unless..."

"Unless?" pressed Liliana after the old man had fallen silent for too long for her tastes.

She beat Chandra to it by a couple of seconds.

"If she still had some properties under her maiden name her birth family might have retained those like with Black," he explained looking both in the eyes "And as the last of the Blacks, you are in a prime position to check with Gringotts', miss Nalaar."

"Wait what?" asked the other two in unison.

* * *

While Gringotts' had been swift in replying to Chandra's inquiry about Bellatrix Lestrange's vaults, Dumbledore had suggested to wait for things to settle a little before going to Daigon Alley: the news about him and the pyromancer being wanted was still too fresh and the pyromancer's appearance too striking to risk it.

So, being denied her only obvious font of distraction, Chandra felt quite bored. Something she felt the need to point out to Hermione, the only person except Liliana that wasn't intimidated by her and she could therefore freely talk to.

"You know, you could do something useful to pass time..." suggested the bushy haired teen sounding a little exasperated "Like helping someone train..."

She had been studying some old looking tome while lying on her makeshift bed. She was also visibility annoyed by the interruption.

"Dumbledore doesn't want you all on the frontlines, to keep you safe," huffed the pyromancer plopping down next to her friend "I'd rather not butt heads with him. Also, Liliana already took over the lighter stuff, so no dice. What are you reading?"

"A treatise on combat uses for cosmetic and household charms. Not the most interesting book ever since it requires actually knowing those charms, it's just what I had in my bag before this whole debacle."

"You could ask someone about those charms, or read something else..."

Hermione stared at her like she had grown an extra head, put down her book and then spread her arms, as if to encompass the whole room.

"And where would I find it?" she asked in a tone that was almost exasperated "We don't exactly have access to a library here..."

"There's always the house elves," pointed out the redhead "You know, Binky and Taffy, short, big eyes..."

"I know, I know... I just still feel they're slaves, no matter what Neville and Susan say..."

"I get from where you're coming, I despise slavery as much as you, but the little guys seem to be genuinely happy about their condition... Look, I won't try to change your mind, I'd be an hypocrite if I did, but do try to think of other possibilities ok?" said Chandra placing a calming hand on the other girl's shoulder "About your book problem, isn't this supposed to be that Slytherin guy's hideout? I bet he left behind a study or something around here... Come on, let's find it!"

Hermione's protests that they didn't even know if there was something to find fell on deaf ears, and in short order the two girls were exploring the darkness behind the large statue's open mouth. It was even darker and danker than the rest of the Chamber, and looked just as rough and natural as the cave holding the snake skeleton.

"I doubt Slytherin's library is around here..." muttered the bushy haired teen as her wand's pale light let them see another pile of rodent bones.

"Maybe," conceded the pyromancer as the flames in her right hand pushed back the darkness ahead "But there must be something. Nobody in his right mind builds a corridor to nowhere that only he can open and puts a monster to guard it..."

"It could simply be the basilisk's nest, no?"

Chandra didn't answer. Instead she flashed a grin at her friend before rising her arm to better light the way. In front of them stood a bronze door sized for a humanoid creature and decorated with carvings of snakes, the largest of which was clearly recognizable as Slytherin house's crest.

* * *

"This door is indeed covered in magical traps," commented Snape as his wand ceaselessly traced paths in the air "The most prominent one being an animation charm on the carved snakes. You did well calling me."

"You don't go far as a thief for hire without knowing when to stop," said Chandra shrugging "Daredevils have kind of short life expectancies..."

After finding the door the pyromancer hadn't felt sure enough of herself to risk Hermione's life –her own life was ok, she could take care of herself– so they had went back and consulted Dumbledore who, being confined to bed, suggested the potion master for his vast knowledge of the Dark Arts. The normally dour man had been, if not joyous, at least agreeable to accompany the pyromancer in her exploration. He had barred Hermione from coming though, probably to keep one of his students safe. He was a professor after all.

"You're not what I thought you'd be," he remarked after a couple of minutes of silence "After your _volatile_ performances, I feared you'd be just like your father..."

Chandra guessed that he had insisted on leaving Hermione behind to have the option to talk with any degree of privacy without anyone's knowledge. A bit too cloak and dagger for her tastes, but she wasn't going to call him out on it.

"I am a lot like Dad," she said smiling fondly, a hand raising to brush her goggles "But probably not the one you were thinking about."

"Indeed," he said before abruptly dropping the subject.

Chandra didn't push it. He was relatively young, so she guessed he might have known her birth parents as schoolmates, and judging by his tone and words there weren't flowers and rainbows in his mind when he thought of them. It was partly like listening to Lupin, but with something other than longing in his voice. There was obviously a lot in their shared past, but she didn't have any right to inquire. She could be brash and abrasive, but she wasn't insensitive.

The door clicked open and he opened it with a flick of his wand.

Nothing happened.

"Seems safe," he declared moving cautiously towards the room beyond the open door.

The pyromancer could see a smallish room with a large desk and many bookcases. It looked like they had in fact found Slytherin's private study.

**AN: Yeah, Snape's scene was short, with lots left unsaid, but I don't feel a heart to heart was that credible with the little history the two shared. There might be more later on, or they might be not...**


	38. Chapter 38

**AN: a bit of a shorter chapter this week, mostly to set the ball rolling. We're advancing towards the end of the journey, as I said some chapters ago.**

**Anyway, usual disclaimer of not being either J. or and on with the chapter!**

CHAPTER 38 – Guerrilla tactics

Exploring the newly rediscovered study took all of a couple of hours, it was just that small. Comprehending what the books they had found actually were about took a lot longer than that, simply because more often than not they were written in Latin, leaving a small fraction in an English so outdated it might have been a different language altogether. Unfortunately for them, despite the fortuitous find, the largest part of the tomes turned out to be either Slytherin's private diaries or the cookbooks in which he registered his attempts at cultivating his real passion. Ron had made a startled, strangled sound when he discovered that the man that in his mind had been the epitome of the Dark wizard had actually been a cook who happened to sell potions on the side. That wasn't to say he hadn't been an exceptional wizard, only that he had wished to be remembered for his shepherd's pies and puddings rather than his discoveries in the fields of herbology or potioneering.

Snape on the other hand had appreciated the possibility to read the journals. He never breached the subject of Chandra's birth parents again though.

It was a treasure trove of knowledge, sure, but nothing useful for the war looming over their heads. Still, it had served in distracting the younger minds from the both Umbridge's takeover and Voldemort's opening moves in the conflict.

Being useless as far as books were concerned, Chandra had taken some of the less academically inclined students and moved to explore and map the web of tunnels that departed from the Chamber's main room. No more ground shaking discoveries were made, but the teens had enjoyed themselves and they had found a way out of the Chamber that didn't include owning a pet phoenix, even if it did lead into the Forbidden Forest.

Once both avenues of passing time and distracting the students had been thoroughly used up though, boredom descended back on the refugees. Each tried to occupy their time as beast as they could under the circumstances, but after around a month spent in the Chamber the first signs of unrest were clear as day.

To avoid any unpleasant snd unnecessary incident, Chandra came up with a new idea:

"Guerrilla tactics?" asked Dumbledore frowning, his voice assuming a hard edge that seldom could be heard from the jolly old man "Didn't I make myself clear when I said I don't want the students to enter the fight? They're far to young to bear such a burden."

"Ok, I admit it sounds bad..." said the pyromancer raising her hands in a placating gesture while privately wondering if he did remember that she wasn't any older than most of them "What I meant was taking small groups of students up in the school via phoenix, play some pranks on Umbridge and her stooges, then get back here. Nothing to do with actual combat, I swear, it's just the name such a tactic would have."

"I see," was all the wizard commented stroking his beard "It would certainly help with some _individuals'_ restlessness..."

"I won't deny I'm getting quite bored in here myself... Never been the kind of person that likes sitting around doing nothing. But this is mostly for the students: some of them are just as restless as me."

"I'll allow this kind of activity," he finally conceded with a deep sigh "But do try not to get our students harmed. They _must_ be kept safe, miss Nalaar, that's my only stipulation."

"Wasn't planning on doing anything else."

* * *

The resistance's first venture started during lunch in the defence classroom: Chandra, Tracey Davis and the Weasley twins appeared out of a ball of crimson flames, Featherbright –Hermione's phoenix– landing on the planeswalker's shoulder.

The plan had been kept simple to minimize the danger factor: flame in, throw a portable swamp, rush to the Slytherin common room, gain access if possible, throw another swamp, flame out. Easy as an ornithopter, as Chandra's dad had used to say.

The initial phases went smoothly since, as foreseen, the class had been deserted. The corridors between the classroom and the dungeons were scantly populated, again probably due to the hour, and the only two students they saw were easy to avoid thanks to the Twins' knowledge of the school's secret passageways. The password to the Snakes' Den –Chandra found that Tracy's moniker for her common room was very apt, knowing it housed people like Malfoy– had been changed, so they set the portable swamp in front of the entrance, then left in another ball of flames.

If Pansy was to be believed –and they had no reason to doubt Liliana's little minion– both jokes caused some problems to the faculty, particularly since Flitwick refused to intervene on the basis that he supposedly had batrachophobia and the two swamps were populated with little golems in the guise of newts.

Dumbledore pronounced the first foray a success, and gave them permission to undertake more, but only if the pyromancer carefully planned each incursion and escorted each team. Chandra agreed, even if she left much of the actual planning to the Weasley twins. She was a fighter, not a prankster.

Much like the first –and just a week after it– the second attack went smoothly. Different targets, different actors, and different means, but similar results. And just like with the other, the Weasley twins' joke items proved to be the bane of Umbridge's existence, particularly after Flitwick, Snape and McGonagall refused to help in dispelling them with a wide assortment of excuses. And to top it all, the squat woman was perfectly aware that they were just excuses, but without proof could do nothing about it.

Third time's the charm as the saying goes: after the first two attacks Umbridge had doubled the patrols and this caused the subsequent incursion to be swiftly intercepted and forced to retreat without accomplishing anything.

Dumbledore wanted to stop the expeditions despite nobody having received any injury that couldn't be treated in little time and with no consequence, and Chandra was inclined to agree to at least temporarily suspend them, but the students –and not just the defeated ones but most of them– felt slighted by the Inquisitorial Squad and demanded revenge. It was a dangerous situation to be in.

The pyromancer understood revenge, it had been one of the forces driving her on Kaladesh at a certain point –partly thanks to Liliana's whispers, but she wasn't small enough to place all the blame at the necromancer's feet– and that was precisely why she knew it was a terrible place to be. Common sense told her to stop her students, but experience hissed that they wouldn't be moved.

She told Dumbledore. Liliana –another individual intimately familiar with revenge– told him too. The elderly headmaster tried to dissuade the rebel students with an impassionate speech appealing to their better nature. He tried to make them see that revenge brought nothing but pain. That it only created vicious cycles. He promised that they would get the school back at the right time. When nothing else worked, he prohibited them to risk their lives on foolish revenge.

They weren't dissuaded.

* * *

"Chandra!"

A voice cut through the redhead's slumber. Some remote part of her brain recognised it, but didn't supply a name or face in her sleep-addled state. Still, she felt the urgency of the tone, so she started awake all the same. Her eyes found Hermione's chocolate orbs, and the pyromancer immediately saw the panic and the barely held back tears. She recognized the pain and a developing bruise. She lifted her left hand to cup her friend's cheek and asked what was wrong in the softest tone she was capable of.

No need to make it harder for Hermione. She decided that Nissa's way was more suited for the situation at hand. She was pants at the whole empathy thing, but she could at least make an effort for her friend.

"They took her Chandra! They took Featherbright!" cried the bushy haired girl, her fingers gripping her friend's shoulder like a lifeline "They took her and went up to the castle!"

"By the Blazes!" she cursed throwing her covers off to get moving.

She had completely misread the situation, and she wished it had just been a simple case of bullying as she had initially thought. Ron had gotten better both as a spellcaster and as a person, but he still had all the grace of a rampaging cerodon more often than not –especially around Hermione– so it had been a logical conclusion to expect he had said and done something foolish but ultimately not too terribly harmful. Instead her students had been complete morons and had taken the only available phoenix –Fanny had recently had his burning day– to pursue their stupid revenge. By force, when Hermione hadn't been swayed.

She dressed in record time and, despite all her instincts telling her it was a supremely Bad Idea, she shook Liliana's shoulder to get her to wake. She was going to need all the help she could get if she wanted a chance to bring the idiot crew back alive.

* * *

"No, I need birds remains to create a bird skeleton or any sort of flying undead Chandra!" explained the annoyed necromancer staring at the collection of rodent bones not too far away from the Chamber.

"Great, all we have is a pile of useless bones!" lamented the redhead kicking a large animal skull.

They were out of travel-able phoenixes and, as it was night, the main doors to the castle were shut, so the pyromancer had hoped that her necromancy-inclined companion could whip-up a solution from all the bones around the Chamber. She had apparently been wrong.

"I never said they were useless, did I?" Liliana said with a smirk that was the stuff of nightmares.


	39. Chapter 39

**AN: And the pieces start to fall in place... Usual disclaimer, I own nothing. Good reading.**

CHAPTER 39 – Vendetta

In groups of twos and threes the rebel students started appearing outside the Room of Requirements in small bursts of flames.

Acquiring the phoenix had been hard and not all of them had agreed in using force with Hermione –who was close with the _very_ short-tempered Chandra– but results could hardly be discussed. Securing the firebird's cooperation was easier once they made it clear that refusal equalled seeing its owner hurt. Leaving the girl stunned when everything was said and done was just logic, or they would have to face the pyromancer's wrath. Ron wasn't proud of that particular exploit, not even close actually, but someone had to start or the slimy snakes of the Inquisitorial Squad would never face justice.

Once everyone had gotten transported in the castle –him coming with the last group to cover their tracks– he gathered the heads of the operation, namely his brothers, Dean and Davis. Apparently the Slytherin girl had no love lost for her own house, and that made her good in his books. She was also one of the few who knew where the Snake Den was.

"Ok, here's the plan: Fred, George, you take a third of us and go get Umbridge in her office. Dean, you take another third to clean house in Ravenclaw. Davis, you're with me and everyone else in the dungeons," he explained fixing his determined gaze on everyone of them in order "All agreed?"

The others nodded. Expression varied from Dean's and Davis' grim determination to his brothers' devious smirk. The three groups started moving in as much silence as possible for tens of teens at a time, which honestly wasn't much.

Ron's own group encountered a Squad's patrol and swiftly dealt with them: no matter how good with a wand they were, ten concussive curses flying their way was enough to take out practically any student. He forced a detour to avoid McGonagall when he spotted her patrolling the lower floor but they ultimately arrived at their destination.

"My _dear_ grandfather always said it's impolite not to knock," said Davis levelling her wand at a bare stretch of wall beyond one of the twins' portable swamps, a dangerous glint in her eyes "_Bombarda_!"

"Come on guys," instigated Ron before following his own order and casting a blasting hex.

It wasn't subtle, but the time for subtlety was long past.

Results couldn't be argued with, after all.

* * *

Despite the many drawbacks to his position, there were some facets of being a teacher that Severus Snape genuinely enjoyed: discovering fellow prodigies in his chosen field was the most obvious one, even if probably the rarest, but he also relished being able to discipline the unruly dunderheads roaming the castle.

Case in point, he had discovered the infamous Weasley twins and other eight students from various years and houses lurking near the headmistress' quarters. He had no love lost for the woman, of course, but he didn't stop them for her sake, nor he did it per Dumbledore's orders; no, he did it for the possibility to finally put those two miscreants in their place.

Or he would have done so had his mark not started to burn before he could make his presence known. Umbridge and the Weasleys would have to wait: the Dark Lord wasn't someone to keep hanging.

As he strode towards the nearest exit to the grounds, he wondered what his supposed master might have wanted. Either he had been personally summoned, which was usually bad but the potion professor could see no reason for that being the case, or it was a blanket call, which could arguably be worse if not for his immediate wellbeing then at least for Britain at large.

Once crossed the ward line he apparated directly inside Nott's mansion in the designated room, then strode towards the large salon the Dark Lord had commandeered. It had indeed been a blanket summon, as apparent from the assembled Death Eaters in full uniform, so Severus steeled himself, checked his occlumency shields, and went to kneel in his usual spot.

He dearly hoped it would be just a general meeting.

As soon as the last summoned came to kneel in their proper place, the Dark Lord got up from the ornate chair he had been sitting on and started –not without his usual grandstanding– detailing his plan to gain control of the Ministry.

"No more cloak and dagger, my friends," hissed the pale wizard gesturing with his bone-white wand as he paced in front of his servants "The time has come for us to strike and win. In two hours time we'll march on the Ministry and claim what is ours by right!"

Nobody spoke or twitched. Even the most hard-headed of them had soon learned not to interrupt their master, least they suffer his displeasure.

"We'll be divided in four groups," went on the Dark Lord, obviously pleased either with the attention he was getting or the plan he was describing "Four of you will stay back with Severus to care for the injured. The others will follow either me, Bella or Lucius in the attack. We'll apparate in the main floor and sweep every office until only the loyal remain."

The potion master kept a stoic face as he committed every facet of the plan to memory, but he was already planning how to get some privacy to send a patronus to Dumbledore, or things were going to rapidly turn bleak for the unprepared Ministry.

* * *

_Rebels incoming. All hostile. Hide_.

The message on the charmed galleon Pansy used to communicate with Lady Vess was concise but very clear, much like the dark witch herself. So the Slytherin girl didn't ponder over it too long before stunning Millicent, bonding her with an _incarcerus_, dumping her out of the door to her room, and finally barricading said entrance with every piece of furniture she could spare.

And not a moment too soon! She had just levitated the last bed to act as a secondary line to defend herself when the rumbling started. She guessed the rebels were trying to gain access to the common room by blasting the entrance. It sounded stupid but it actually was far from unbelievable to be perfectly honest, with enough wands that is.

The girl dearly hoped her preparations would prove to be enough. She didn't feel the necessity to see if she measured up to the students trained by professor Nalaar.

* * *

In a shower of brilliant flames and molten matter, Chandra and Liliana emerged in Myrtle' bathroom from what had been a sink, riding a literal wave of skeletal rodents. From her stall, Myrtle stared speechless at the scene.

"I told you they weren't useless, dear," smugly commented the necromancer as she sprawled over her minions, who carried her like an old age noblewoman over their backs.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," replied the pyromancer, who was being carried with far less grace or care "Make those things drop me: I can walk just fine."

The creaking horde stopped at a gesture from their mistress, letting the two planeswalkers regain their footing. Immediately after that, a sizable part of the rodents rushed out of the bathroom.

"They'll scout for us," explained Liliana leaning against one of the stalls "The students have almost an hour on us by now, this levels the field a bit. Since we have time, what are we going to do to our wayward pupils once we found them?"

"We'll spank them like the unruly children they are!" muttered Chandra as she paced up and down the lavatory.

"You do realize some of them are older than you, right?" asked the necromancer with a sly smirk.

The answering glare could have set her on fire.

"Just saying, dear," said Liliana shrugging.

As the pyromancer was getting back to trying to burrow a trench in the floor by walking alone, a silvery doe arrived trough a wall and uttered a message in Snape's voice:

"They're attacking the Ministry in an hour, send help."

Its message delivered, the spectral creature jumped down the colossal hole in the ground towards the Chamber.

"By the Blazes!" hissed Chandra repressing the urge to bash her head against the nearby wall "Can this day get any worse?"

"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: because as Ultima-Owner pointed out last chapter, when it rains it pours. I still own nothing, you guys will be the first to know if things change. Not that I expect them to, of course.**

CHAPTER 40 – Crescendo of war

"Minerva!" called Chandra rushing towards the older woman, Liliana close behind her.

Having received Snape's message they had been making haste to reach the front gates, hoping to catch a professor who could hopefully give them a lift: planeswalking out of a plane and back in was exhausting enough without the prospect of the battle to follow.

"Chandra, miss Vess," greeted the scotswoman without slowing "I expected to see the two of you already at the Ministry."

"The students have kidnapped Featherbright, we're kind of in need of a way there," sheepishly explained the redhead "We were about to go get them under control when that ghost doe appeared."

"Should some of us stay back?"

"If this Voldemort character is as powerful as you all make him out to be we'll be needing every one of us, especially since Dumbledore is out of the picture," said Liliana shaking her head "Maybe let the other teachers know if you can spare the energy. A few students are hardly our most pressing concern."

A distant explosion resonated somewhere in the dungeons, as if to defy the necromancer's statement.

"I fear you're right," admitted the older-looking woman casting a glance in the descending stairs direction "Filius and Pomona will have to deal with this. Let us make haste."

* * *

Apparating into the Ministry main hall, it immediately became apparent to the trio that they had landed into a warzone: most exposed surfaces sported signs of spellfire, and what Chandra guessed had been a large golden fountain laid in pieces scattered all around. A single body was propped against what remained of a desk of some kind. Judging by the scarlet robes, he had been a night guard.

Ignoring the fallen man –or in Liliana's case, swiftly animating him– they made their way after Minerva towards some kind of golden cage that turned out to be an elevator.

"Arthur should be down in the Department of Misteries. I'll go help him, you two should head for the auror headquarters. If there's resistance, it's probably centred there."

Seeing no reason to disagree, the two planeswalkers bid the professor good luck and took a different elevator to the suggested level, hoping to find something other than scores of Death Eaters. Not that putting some of them out of commission wouldn't be a good thing, it was just that Chandra would have much preferred saving some lives.

"My minion first, you cover him, I cover you?" asked Liliana tapping her right index finger on her thigh.

The pyromancer sincerely doubted the necromancer to be nervous, it was more likely that the ride was boring her as much as it was Chandra herself.

The pyromancer agreed and donned her goggles. The red lenses wouldn't do any good in the dark –Voldemort's forces must have had a way to bypass the problem or they wouldn't have snuffed out the lights– but the discomfort was worth not getting cinder in her eyes.

The elevator reached a floor –second level according to the disembodied voice that preannounced them stopping by scant seconds– and the golden bars opened to reveal two panting aurors, a man and a teen girl slightly older than Chandra. The man was leaning on his colleague's shoulder, obviously favouring his left leg.

"Friends!" exclaimed the pyromancer seeing both the man raising his wand and Liliana's servant tensing to charge "We're all friends here! Reinforcements from Hogwarts."

"A bit late girlie," commented the man eyeing the animated corpse with distrust "The Ministry's fallen, or is as good as."

"Shove it Proudfoot, it's a miracle they're even here," said the girl, her black hair turning an impressive shade of red, before cycling to a pale cyan "With them here we have a chance of getting the boss and the other guys out!"

"Where are they?" asked Liliana stepping back to let the two lawmages in "We were directed towards the third level."

"The boss should be on the fifth, defending the Minister's office with most of the boys," explained the girl while she helped her colleague in the elevator "There should be others on various levels like us, left behind to act as a distraction."

Agreeing that they had no time to go through every level hoping to find someone still alive, the five men team ascended towards the fifth floor. Proudfoot opted to stay back and cover the way out since he was wounded, while Tonks was more than willing to join the planeswalkers.

Hearing the female auror's name, Chandra realized that she was the same shapeshifter the pyromancer had met in the summer at the Order meetings. It was no wonder then that she had readily accepted their help.

Nobody had called the elevator on either the third or the fourth floor, so they reached the fifth shortly. As soon as the doors clanked open, the signs of the battle that had been fought there were visible to anyone with a working eye: broken furniture, debris, burnt marks on most surfaces, and three corpses. Somewhere down the hall sounds of a spellfire exchange could be heard.

"No time to rest dears," called Liliana as her runes flashed purple.

"I'd be only a dead weight," protested Proudfoot, who had leaned against the wall in order not to aggravate his injury.

"She wasn't talking with you," snorted Chandra gesturing to the corpses who had started to clumsily rise to their feet.

"Normally I should arrest you Lady, but I'm hardly in any position to," chuckled the wounded auror "Give them Hell for me too, will you?"

The four undead took point, forming a wall in front of Chandra and Tonks, who walked ahead of the necromancer.

They soon came upon the fight they could hear: almost ten Death Eaters were huddled around a bend and behind some furniture, while at least two red robed aurors defended a barred up room, casting from behind the chipped doors.

"Give no quarters dears," ordered Liliana gesturing with her right hand "There will be plenty of them to mop up in the lower floors later."

Chandra waited until the shambling quartet was almost upon the masked wizards before throwing a fireball in their midst, setting one of them on fire. Tonks followed suit with a hail of coloured projectiles. The Death Eaters, who were led by the blonde man Voldemort had called Lucius, fired back a salvo of bright green spells mixed with what the redhead believed to be exploding curses, which made short work of Liliana's minions. The necromancer tsked in annoyance and overloaded the spell animating the corpses, causing them to explode amid their opponents' ranks.

"What did I even come for?" wondered Chandra picking a piece of undead from her pauldron and flicking it away "You could have cleaned house alone!"

"Flatterer," replied Liliana kneeling next to a retching Tonks –her hair a sickly pale green– and massaging her back with one hand "You ok dear? If this makes you queasy maybe you should rethink your career choice..."

"I'd be more worried if she didn't puke after seeing that," commented the pyromancer checking if there were any Death Eaters still alive "I know _I_ did the first time. Hey, this guy's mostly ok!"

And indeed she had found a masked individual that looked to be more or less unscathed, if stunned by the explosion. She took his mask off, punched him unconscious, and then broke his arms for good measure. Unfortunately, all of the dawned assailants disappeared moments later looking almost like they had been sucked into themselves. It was inconvenient, but it explained why they had found only dead aurors laying around.

"A healer, yeah right," commented one of the entrenched aurors revealing herself to be madam Bones "If we weren't almost overrun..."

"I'll have you know that I did indeed study as a healer under one of the greatest mistresses of the art that Dominaria has ever seen," said the necromancer in a badly faked offended tone "I never said that I actually practice the profession."

"I'm glad they came when they did," said the other auror, a brown haired man with no distinctive features whatsoever "Saved our bacon they did."

"On that we agree Dawlish," assented the woman "Unfortunately, you all didn't make it in time to save the Minister."

* * *

The fight wasn't going as planned, Ron considered. It wasn't nice to admit, but it was the truth. While Dean had sent a message via the charmed coins stating that Ravenclaw was secured, the Slytherins were still resisting –entrenched in their rooms after the initial assault had downed some of their bolder members– and he had yet to hear from his brothers, meaning that Umbridge hadn't been taken down either.

The plan had been intended as a shock tactic, relying heavily on the surprise element. The truth was there still was a fight to be fought only because they had managed to keep the Snakes separated in small groups, a state of things he wasn't exactly confident they could keep. When his forces tired out completely –not if but when, he was pretty sure it was just a matter of time– the Slytherins would surely push back and, with numbers on their side, they would squash the rebels.

Sure, Dean was en-route with the reinforcements, but he had to cross the whole castle, and if Ron's group capitulated first it would mean nothing: the Squad would easily overwhelm the rebels in the castle, leaving only the ten or so that still were in the Chamber.

Ron could already see their whole attack was going to end badly for the rebellion. Results couldn't be disputed. It had been a sort of mantra of his since the beginning of the operation, and the result was that his tactically sound plan hadn't been enough to let them retake the school. The result was that the whole rebellion would fall for his pride.

Unless he did something about it, of course.

"Fall back!" he ordered out loud while scrambling for his coin to extend the order to the other groups "Scramble and meet back at the entry point!"

Aborting the attack was the only logical choice. If results couldn't be disputed, at least he would assure all his comrades got back to safety. This way he had the meagre consolation that he would only have to face Chandra's wrath rather than whatever torture Umbridge could to cook up.


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41 – Dismal failure

The lower levels of the Ministry were, much like the upper ones, built in black marble that gave a solemn feeling to the place. Unfortunately, it also made it look like a tomb in Chandra's opinion, and she had raided enough of them in her short life to be considered an expert. At least down there, there weren't any bodies strewn around to complete the macabre image.

She peeked around a corner with an hand mirror, then gestured for Tonks to follow her as she silently moved past. They had split in two groups: Liliana, madam Bones –and wasn't that a funny named duo?– and her companion went to scour the upper levels, while the pyromancer and the female auror went down to the Department of Mysteries to find and help Minerva. They had yet to find any actual sign of fighting, but she didn't doubt for an instant that they weren't alone on that level: if Voldemort wanted the prophecy he had to go and get it himself.

She was the one in the lead of their little expedition because a) she was likely the most experienced of the two in sneaking around, and b) Tonks was still out of it from Liliana's last spell.

If she had to be completely honest, Chandra too was a bit put off. Not by the exploding corpses –that was disgusting, but she was used to it after having travelled with the necromancer for so long– but by the death of the minister. They wouldn't have made it in time even if they had apparated directly into the man's study according to madam Bones, but it still irked her that Voldemort had reached one of his objectives for the attack. The dark wizard simply rubbed her the wrong way, and seeing things going according to his plans didn't help.

The duo creeped on some more until they reached a circular room with far too many identical doors to be functional. There they found the first signs of fighting: lying next to one another were the Weasley patriarch and Minerva amid scorch marks and a number of other spellfire signs. After a cursory glance at the room to spot eventual attackers, Chandra rushed to the professor's side. The scotswoman's breath was shallow and she had a dark stain on her robes on the right side of her trunk, while it was too late for Arthur. The pyromancer treated Minerva's injury the only way she knew, that is to say cauterizing it with a small spark of her power after ordering Tonks to stun the woman.

Unfortunately for them, they weren't given any time to do anything more before a hiss resonated through the room, though to Chandra's ears it sounded like a voice:

"I found prey, Massster," it said with a distinct feminine lilt.

The pyromancer had little doubt about the identity of the snake's master, so she jumped to her feet and prepared to fight.

"And who is it, Nagini dear?" asked Voldemort opening one of the doors "Well, if it isn't Chandra Nalaar herself! Here to foil me again, I presume."

The redhead's answer was an inarticulate scream and a stream of orange flames that engulfed the whole door.

* * *

"Ronnikins, what is the meaning of this?" asked one of the twins as their group entered the Room of Hidden Things.

"We could have gotten the Toad with some more time," continued the other shaking his head.

"Very true my less handsome brother, we would have indeed. Were the Snakes too much for you?"

Ron was a prideful young man, and as such it was hard for him to justify his choice to retreat. Even worse was doing so in front of his brothers. But he had also recently realized that his actions had consequences and those could be worse.

"Yes," he admitted with a sigh hanging his head "Had we stayed, they would have wiped us out once we were tired."

The twins, for once, didn't have anything to shot back. No funny quips, no jokes. They shared a long look, then nodded and placed a hand on each of Ron's shoulders.

"We're proud of you, little brother," they said in perfect unison and giving him a smile.

"Now let's get our arses down in the Chamber," said Fred slapping the shoulder his hand had been resting on.

"Before the Toad mobilises her forces," finished George mirroring his twin.

* * *

The flames lapped against a translucent blue dome, summoned at the last second by Voldemort.

"Temper, temper," he rebuked the teen with a smirk "Rage makes you powerful but it also blinds you, child."

"This is me being miffed. You've yet to see me raging, Tommy boy," snarled Chandra pumping more mana into her flames before looking down at Tonks and muttering "Take Minerva and run!"

"But-"

"Go!" shouted the redhead dividing her stream in two to keep one on her opponent while the other burned a line in the marble above the door to rain shrapnel on him.

Forced to choose between being burned alive and buried under rubble, Voldemort went for option three: he let his shield expand outwards to staunch the flames before letting it collapse as he dodged in the room he had come from.

Chandra had a split second to decide what to do: on the one hand, she really wanted to toast the dark wizard who had wounded Minerva, who she considered a sort of friend, but on the other hand she knew he was still protected by his remaining phylactery and that it would be hardly useful. The pyromancer hated making those kind of choices.

She cast a flame sigil on the ground just out of the rubble, hoping to at least singe him a little, before turning and following Tonks to the lifts. They had to rendezvous with Liliana and Bones to flee. The ministry had fallen and Voldemort had the prophecy, whether they liked it or not.

* * *

Leaving Voldemort behind had been easy: all it took was collapsing a number of hallways –if he was walking so brazenly around it was doubtful there were any more survivors, so Chandra felt little remorse in doing that– as they fled. To be absolutely sure, she demolished the access to the elevator too. She didn't doubt for a moment he would get out of the Department of Mysteries eventually, but she was hoping for that to be as later as possible, ideally after she and the others were long gone.

Finding Liliana and the others was a different matter altogether: they had a general direction the trio had taken and a meeting point in the aurors' barracks, but the first was far too vague and Chandra felt they didn't have the time for the second option. Luckily, Tonks was able to produce one of those spectral animals –a rabbit of some kind– to get in touch with her boss, so that solved the problem.

Unluckily, a silvery rabbit bouncing in mid-air tends to grab the attention, and therefore they found three Death Eaters waiting for them as soon as they disembarked the elevator. Had Chandra been alone and unburdened, she would have simply bathed the hallway in fire and be done with it, but she was neither so she limited herself to throwing fireballs at the assailants from behind her companion's transfigured wall. It wouldn't have been enough if reinforcements hadn't arrived and taken the three down.

"This plane is full of insane maniacs," lamented Liliana in obviously fake despair as they descended towards the ground floor and the exit.

"Says the necromancer living on Innistrad," retorted Chandra while using some conjured bandages to dress Minerva's injury "You should be used to insane maniacs, they're kind of Nephalia's main export."

"At least in Nephalia people have the good grace to die when they get skewered by femurs. I had to pierce that witch trice. Trice Chandra! She could be more stubborn than you! And she teleported away instead of dying. What a displeasing person..."

"If you weren't on our side I'd try to arrest you," commented Dawlish looking pretty green "As it is, I'm too disturbed to try."

"Leaving your skewed perception of reality aside," said Chandra shaking her head "We need to get the last phylactery as soon as possible."

"It's the middle of the night dear, I doubt the goblins will be happy to see you."

"Phylactery? Goblins?" asked madam Bones with a scowl.

"When has that stopped me exactly?" asked Chandra smirking ignoring the lawmage "I say we get in as soon as we find Featherbright."

"Very well, I'll leave disciplining those morons to Hermione," said the necromancer offering a malevolent smile "I'm sure she'll find something... Apt."

"And Jace believes you've turned a new leaf..." muttered Chandra rolling her eyes "For a mind mage he can be remarkably gullible."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't like being ignored, but if it's the goblins you need there's a direct floo connection with Gringotts from the Goblin Liason office," said the head auror in a sour tone.

The two planeswalkers shared a look.

"We're not certain how much we can share, you'll have to ask Dumbledore..." started Chandra in a tentative tone.

"Know it is fundamental for the war effort that we get into that bank, and destroy a yet unknown artefact," summed up Liliana, not really caring if too much was actually said "Now, where is this office?"

**AN: and with this we close the Ministry/Hogwarts battles and head towards the last horcrux hunt. I debated a long time on saving Arthur's life vs having him die and as much as I like the man, having no meaningful losses in such a situation would be too improbable. See you all next week!**


	42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42 – Treasure hunt

The flames in the fireplace flared green and two humans stepped out, or rather, one did so while the other tumbled out as if she had dived in the fire on the other side. Grimgrin –the goblin who had been handpicked by director Ragnok to be the liaison with the wizards for his brusque personality and the hideous scar that prevented him from forming any expression that wasn't a feral grin– immediately noticed that neither was the entitled buffoon he was used to speak to: for one thing both were female, but more importantly those two had an air of power to them.

He had been sleeping in the adjacent room, as his custom, when he heard the floo connect. He only took time enough to grab his waraxe before rushing to meet who had been stupid enough to come to Gringotts in the middle of the night.

"I hate floo," commented the one who had tumbled out of the fireplace, a redhead smelling of sulphur and ash, as she picked herself up "If I never use one again it will still be too soon."

The other one –a raven haired woman that smelled of death and darkness– didn't respond to her companion's comment. Instead she kept her amethyst gaze on Grimgrin. He instinctively lowered his weapon, for every neuron in his brain was screaming to him that the woman was dangerous.

"Who are you?" he asked, forcing down the cold hand of fear he felt gripping his heart.

"Oh, sorry for waking you," said the redhead grinning "We didn't really expect to find anyone."

If she was perturbed by him being armed, she didn't show it in the least. On the other hand, her words hinted at them being thieves.

"We have a matter of the outmost urgency," stated the other, again looking completely unconcerned with his weapon "Kindly do point us at the bank director."

It wasn't a request, but an order, and one she expected to be obeyed. Right away. Grimgrin decided that director Ragnok could deal with the scary witches himself.

* * *

Director Ragnok's office was visibly more opulent than Grimgrin's. It was the kind of wasteful display of richness that Chandra found distasteful and Liliana appreciated, especially in her manor. Contrary to that, Ragnok himself was a direct person that went straight to the heart of the matter, though the redhead was realist enough to admit that it was at least partially due to the hour.

"I do not appreciate being woken, but you said it was a matter of the outmost importance, so speak," he barked once they were all sat at his desk.

"Are you familiar with the concept of phylactery?" asked Liliana, obviously the one more at ease with dealing with authority in a friendly manner.

"Dumbledore called them horcrux," supplied Chandra.

"No self respecting goblin would ever deal with a soul jar," replied Ragnok, his scowl deepening "If you're about to entrust one of those to me for safe keeping I will have to direct you away."

"On the contrary, we're here to eliminate one that is already inside the bank," explained Liliana in the same calm tone she had been using.

No need to worsen the goblin's mood by being anything less than calm and cordial, after all. It would be a bother if they had to fight their way to the vault and then back out.

"Unless it is one of your own vaults..."

"My friend here, Rose Potter, is also Lady Black and as such she should have access to Bellatrix Black's vault. Is that correct?"

"Ms. Lestrange's vault rights were transferred back to her person when she escaped from Azkaban. The Goblin Nation cares not for Wizarding laws not directly linked to the economy."

"Is that a no?" asked Chandra scrunching her face "It sounded like a no to me."

"You'll have to get Ms. Lestrange's permission to access her vault," stated Ragnok showing far more pointed teeth than necessary "This is non negotiable."

Silence descended on the room. The two planeswalkers exchanged a long look, almost as if they could communicate telepathically –which they actually could with Jace acting as a relay, but that wasn't the case– when in reality they were just used to reading each other: Liliana's smirk spoke of troubles, Chandra raised an eyebrow to convey her doubts, the necromancer shrugged and the pyromancer shook her head in surrender.

"Look Mr. Ragnok," said the redhead in an hesitant tone turning to stare at the goblin "We really needed to find that cup so we'd really appreciate if we could do this the easy way."

"And if I prefer the hard way?" hissed the director with a feral grin that showed far too many sharp teeth for anything not related to sharks "The Goblins are a warrior race. Unlike you _wizards_, we don't shy away from a small skirmish."

The way he said wizards one might think it was some kind of insult. Of course, considering the relationship between the two races, it was hardly surprising.

"Then you'll discover that Chandra Nalaar doesn't do _small skirmishes_," evenly replied the redhead leaning forward "I'll tear down this blasted bank brick for brick if necessary."

Ragnok ground his teeth, anger seeping off him in waves.

* * *

"Next time leave diplomacy to me, dear," commented Liliana gesturing two of her shades to take down the onrushing group of guards "We could avoid useless deaths."

"Like you weren't aiming exactly for that," snorted Chandra as she threw a fireball with her free hand, the other one occupied with dragging Ragnok's unconscious body as they made their way towards the vaults "We would have ended exactly in the same situation."

"Why yes, of course we would have," laughed the necromancer, the sound almost covered by the cries of the dying goblins "I was speaking about next time, in fact."

"A necromancer that wants to avoid deaths, what next?" replied the pyromancer smirking.

Things weren't going as smoothly as the two had hoped –getting the goblins' collaboration would have made the whole debacle much easier– but neither was going to shed any tears about it. They were no stranger to violence to get what they needed or wanted, though Chandra had to admit it was the first time she robbed a bank. She found it particularly funny that that first time came _after_ she had stopped her activity as a thief.

The goblins were fighting fiercely as Ragnok had promised –alerted by the director himself through a rune cluster hidden under his desk– but while their silver armours protected them from direct spells, their weapons were completely ineffective against Liliana's shades. The incorporeal undeads, in turn, had little qualms with decimating the defenders, backed up by the redhead blowing up the corridors under the guards' feet or on their heads.

Truth to be told, Chandra wasn't exactly thrilled with all the needless killing. But she wasn't foolish enough to think she and Liliana could find a different way to accomplish their mission. Gideon's policy of incapacitating without killing had certainly its merits and the pyromancer espoused it with no reserve, but they could hardly punch into submission an army of heavy goblin infantry. Moreover, their specialities were especially _unsuited_ for subduing without killing or at least maiming.

The duo made their way down into the cave system that held the vaults with little problem, but found their first obstacle in the rails: neither of them knew how to summon –or pilot– one of the carts and waking Ragnok wasn't really an option since he couldn't be trusted, so they were forced to walk along the rails, suspended above a gaping abyss. It was stupidly dangerous and slow going, but with no real alternatives they had no choice. They could hardly give up and walk away, after all.

The railway was mostly suspended and deserted, but it passed often enough near some open passages in the rocky cliffs making up the cave walls. Some lead to various vaults, helping the planeswalkers get a feel of how far they were from their target, while others disappeared into the earth, surely linked in a vast labyrinth of tunnels –no matter the plane, goblins loved their tunnels apparently– that let the guards keep coming for them.

Things, or at the very least Chandra's mood, took a turn for the worse when they first were forced to pass under a waterfall of all things, and then discovered that the bankers on Earth employed dragons as watchdogs. The problem weren't the dragons per se, rather the fact that they were chained, covered in badly healed wounds, and had obviously been tortured to ensure their complacency. The pyromancer was almost tempted to wake Ragnok and throw him into the gloomy abyss. Almost though, they still needed the director to open the vault door if what info Chandra had received in her role as Lady Black was to be believed.

The roller coaster-like nature of the tracks unfortunately was ill suited for walking on them: while dips and raises were mostly no problem, the rail contained near-vertical drops, steep climbs, missing parts that the fast carts simply flew over, and even points were the drive moved on the walls or the roof of the cave. Since taking their chances with the tunnels seemed like a terrible idea, Chandra summoned one of her spitfires –a birdlike elemental made of pure flames– to ride down. This in turn forced them to wake Ragnok to get directions, after having threatened him with a painful death followed by a _long_ servitude in Liliana's care. The goblin proved to be receptive, especially when he realised how far they had come in the bank without injury.

In the end they landed before a pale skinned, blind dragon that shied away from the spitfire's screeches as if absolutely terrified of the much smaller elemental.

"They've been trained to expect pain when they hear loud noises," explained Ragnok as he made his way towards the trio of vaults behind the cowering beast "Standard Gringotts policy. Makes the best guards sort of employing silver golems."

Chandra silently fumed, already meditating how to free all the poor creatures. Liliana studied the bell-like instruments piled in a box near their landing point, wondering if they could be used to better direct her minions. She decided that zombies were probably too stupid to be trained to do anything other than moan, shamble around, and eat people.

Ragnok caressed the black door marked as 678, letting it dissolve into an equally dark cloud to reveal a cave-like opening crammed from floor to ceiling with coins, goblets, armours, jewels, potions in ornate flasks, tapestries, furniture, some skins for various creatures, and even a human skull wearing a spiked black crown on a shelf.

**AN: Yeah, did anyone really think it was going to end any other way?**  
**See you next week with the second part of the hunt.**


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43 – Flight of fancy

"Well, here we are at last," said Chandra distractedly grabbing Ragnok by the neck of his suit while she let her gaze roam over the accumulated wealth "Can you feel it?"

The goblin had tried to sneak away while the two planeswalkers were distracted. Unfortunately for him, they weren't quite that inattentive.

"There's too much dark magic in there to spot that cup..." replied Liliana scrunching up her face, as if tasting something foul "These people surely like their cursed trinkets. Better not touching anything I don't say it's safe."

"Touching?" asked the redhead, staring at her companion as if she had just declared her undying love for the Cabal of Dominaria "I was planning on melting down all of this junk."

"Please don't," implored Ragnok, still weakly struggling to free himself from Chandra's grasp.

"That works I guess..." said the necromancer shrugging and ignoring the goblin "Mind if I take that crowned skull first? I bet she has oh so many wonderful tales to tell..."

"Be my guest, unless it's the horcrux that is," chuckled the pyromancer shaking her head at her companion's antics "Mind taking care of our _esteemed_ host? Try discovering how many dragons I need to free after we're done here, will you?"

"You cannot free the dragons inside the bank!" protested the director struggling harder "Think of the damages! Think of the muggles!"

Chandra stared uncomprehendingly through her tinted lenses at Ragnok. In all the wide Multiverse, goblins loved their shinies. It was a fundamental truth of reality that nobody could change. Usually though they were less greedy than what she had witnessed on Earth. Maybe it was just true that money drew out the worst in people.

"I really hate chains though," was all she said before tossing him to the side and focusing on the task of destroying Voldemort's last horcrux.

Flames –orange at first, but growing in brightness and intensity turning yellow, then pure white, and then even brighter until they became the invisible ghostfire she had unlocked on Zendikar– poured from her open hands like a creek in spring, washing on the stone and the treasure alike with all the unrelenting force of a tidal wave. Gold and precious metals turned insubstantial in a matter of instants, releasing whatever enchantments they had been holding into colourful sparks that were similarly consumed too. Tom Riddle's soul shard fared no better, dying a screaming death in that roaring inferno of completely invisible flames.

While Chandra poured mana and her displeasure into the cleansing flames, Liliana picked up Ragnok's shell-shocked form and said: "Actually, now that we're done here, what do we need you for?"

"F-for the dragons!" he reminded, clearly scared both of what he was witnessing and what the necromancer's word suggested.

"Oh right, that. How many overgrown lizards you keep as guards?"

"Five," he promptly supplied, hoping to win the woman's sympathy and to stay alive.

Unfortunately for him, Liliana's worldview was far too utilitarian for such sentiments. She smiled, thanked him, then with a force belied by her lean form threw him in the flames.

"Good riddance."

* * *

Madam Bones and her remaining aurors arrived at Hogwarts to find the situation was only superficially better than at the Ministry: while no Death Eaters roamed the halls, Dolores Umbridge was still in power and her Inquisitorial Squad enforced her rule. It was a far cry from the school all four aurors had attended.

The squat woman met them at the door, firmly convinced that the late minister had sent them to "finally arrest those unruly brats following Potter and Dumbledore", as loudly declared by her.

"Cornelius is dead, Dolores," said Amelia with her usual bluntness "Death Eaters attacked the Ministry. We're the only survivors."

This apparently stole the wind from the other woman's sails, leaving her to soundlessly flap her mouth in a terrible imitation of a fish.

"Now, before they decide to try taking Hogwarts too, can we stop this pointless infighting and start preparing? Hogwarts is our last stand."

The pink-clad witch simply passed out.

"Wonderful..." muttered Madam Bones with a heavy sigh before starting to rattle orders "Tonks, get her and Proudfoot to the infirmary, then try reaching Dumbledore. Let him know he and his merry band of birdwatchers are more than welcome here. Dawlish, you're with me. We'll try to re-establish some order in the castle."

* * *

"I expected you to complain more about Ragnok," casually commented Liliana while she watched Chandra melt the collars off one the dragons after having calmed the pitiful creature first.

She was still pumping her mana into an oppressive aura of death in case the beast got the wrong idea. She didn't hate dragons, nor she shared the redhead's appreciation for them, but Liliana would be damned if she let an overgrown lizard get the drop on her. She didn't live longer than a millennium by being careless.

"The Abbot used to say that there are always too many goblins," replied the pyromancer patting the dragon's head as the collar came undone.

The necromancer was surprised to hear the beast _purr_.

"A perfectly shareable view," she said trying to keep a straight face "They tend to come in quite large numbers."

"I used to think he was a racist prick," went on Chandra smirking before her expression soured "Ragnok was... The kind of goblin that makes me want to review my position on that statement..."

"There are always individuals like that. Unless we're talking vampires, they're kind of all like that."

They watched in silence as the dragon unfurled his wings and rose to join the two they had already freed in causing untold damage to the bank above. Then, they mounted the spitfire and flew toward the next one.

Despite the gloom of the underground it was pretty easy to find the creatures: after the first had been freed they had all become restless, straining their bonds, throwing around streams of fire, roaring, and rampaging in general. Normally a dragon going berserker was nothing to be happy about, but neither planeswalker was going to complain if it made their job easier: the goblins could hardly keep sending guards their way when there were five angry, fire-breathing lizards demolishing their bank.

If she had to be a hundred percent honest, Chandra was kind of underwhelmed by the whole situation: Gringotts was her first bank heist, and it was supposedly impossible to rob, and yet they managed to get their objective, nab a nice memento for Liliana, and free the dragons, all with minimal resistance. Sure, the alarms had been sounded ten minutes after their entering, but still.

"I still wonder if I'm not corrupting you dear," continued the older woman as they landed long enough for the pyromancer to free the trashing fourth dragon, a spiked one reminiscent of the one from the tournament "We caused quite some victims tonight, both here and the ministry... Captain Muscles would have a conniption."

"Gideon's philosophy is hard enough to apply when all you can do is throw fire around," replied the redhead ruining the strained collar with one well placed fireball "Add the spell resistant armours and the situation becomes quite unbearable. Sometimes victims are simply unavoidable. It's a sad truth, but truth nonetheless."

The dragon roared in triumph, ignored the spitfire, and proceeded to fly upwards. It was shortly followed by a loud crash, like a giant glass being shattered: the dragons had managed to smash their way through the ceiling of the cave, which constituted the bank's crystal floor.

"Well, you know me," said the necromancer as they moved towards the last creature "Always instilling ethical dilemmas in young, impressionable girls' minds."

"Liliana, you're kind of a walking ethical dilemma," replied Chandra laughing "Also, you _have_ been a terrible influence on Hermione."

"Like you're one to talk..." mirthfully quipped the older woman as the other started working on freeing the last dragon, a sickly looking thing with scales that might have been emerald green once.

Pretty soon the last creature was flying upwards, towards the far stretch of London's sky visible all the way from down there: the other dragons had apparently tore their way through Gringotts public building too. It was time to go.

"Do you think Featherbright has been freed by now?" wondered Liliana as they flew after the dragon amid the screaming and curses of the surviving goblins.

* * *

"Dumbledore is calling, my lord," said Severus kneeling in front of Voldemort "Should I go see what he wants?"

The Dark Lord, despite having been interrupted while he surveyed the wreckage that had been the office of the Minister, didn't immediately curse him but assumed a pensive expression. A clear sign the man was in a good mood.

"We scored a great victory tonight, true, but the war is not quite over yet..." he hummed in a soft tone "How are the wounded?"

"They'd do better if we had a true healer, I'm sure St. Mungo won't deny you, my lord," replied Severus thinking of the group he had just left.

There had been a surprisingly higher amount of injuries compared to the usual for a Death Eaters' raid –and quite the number dead too– but it had also probably been the singularity largest mobilization they had had in two wars, so it was hardly surprising. Death Eaters weren't exactly trained, after all.

"All things considered though, they're well enough for me to leave them in someone else's hands, my lord," concluded the potion master, before adding "Bellatrix is quite unwell, but nothing that cannot be healed with rest and blood replenishers. I suggest having words with her about when to retreat."

Voldemort hummed in thought, but was prevented from answering when someone else burst into the room.

"My lord, there's something wrong at Gringotts! The building has been torn apart by dragons, who are now flying above London!" said the young man kneeling next to Severus, who recognized him as Adrian Paucey.

Silence was the immediate answer. Neither of the two Death Eaters dared looking up, for fear of incurring into their lord's wrath. He was, after all, infamous for his violent mood swings when similarly bad news were brought in. And yet, the silence stretched like a rubber band. For one full minute, nobody moved or uttered any kind of noise.

"My lord?" asked Severus daring to look up, hoping that his unique positions as spy and double agent would protect him from the lash that was sure to follow.

Voldemort seemed lost in a trance, but at his servant's questioning tone he focused his ruby eyes on him.

"Go see what Dumbledore knows of this, Severus," he ordered in a dry tone, bereft of his usual grandstanding, then turned towards the younger Death Eater "You go gather ten men competent with the memory charm and go doing damage control. Also, tell Rodolphus to take five men and go check things at Gringotts."

"Rodolphus is dead, my lord," reminded the potion master setting his gaze back on the ground.

"Right, a shame. His brother then," said Voldemort turning to stare at the wreckage once again, his tone growing pensive "You have your orders, now go."

**AN: here we go, this is the end of the Ministry battle and the last horcrux hunt. We're moving towards the end of the story, but it won't be next week.**

**Stay tuned folks!**


	44. Chapter 44

CHAPTER 44 – Wall of faith

Chandra and Liliana arrived to the castle to see students and order members standing watch on the battlements, while more members and aurors stood in apparently random points along the perimeter casting long strings of multicoloured spells at the sky. The various streams all joined together into a large shimmering dome, probably some kind of defensive ward that was slowly inching its way downward, covering the whole castle grounds.

"Too few..." muttered the redhead from atop her spitfire, her gaze moving from one indistinct figure to the next.

"You've never got enough soldiers in war," commented the necromancer sitting behind her, likely quoting some dominarian warlord "That said, I hope we've got more hidden inside. They can barely man the walls."

The pyromancer nodded in agreement, then guided her summon to swoop under the shimmering dome and land near the main entrance. No need to possibly damage the budding wards.

Nobody was really startled by their arrival: the sentinels had likely seen the spitfire from far away –it was a bird made of flames, after all– while the casters were too busy to divert their attention. Still, someone must have informed those inside the school, because the doors opened as soon as the planeswalkers landed and Dumbledore stepped outside to meet them. The man was still suffering from the injuries he had received during the confrontation with the haunted armour, as evident from the staff he was leaning on to walk, but he was also obviously too stubborn to stay put in such dire circumstances.

"Miss Nalaar, Miss Vess, I'm glad to see you both doing well," he said as he got close enough, his voice audibly strained "Pardon the directness but time is short. Did you get the last... Anchor? It's why you went to Gringotts, no?"

Despite the aforementioned need for shortness, he had still checked if anyone was listening in and opted for a less obvious term.

"Melted down into slag," said Chandra nodding her head "With that we got all of them."

"Assuming Voldemort didn't create any more of those things..." quipped Liliana shrugging "Doubtful all things considered, but with madmen you never know."

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, evidently relieved by the news. Yet, it was soon replaced by lines of worry: in spite of their recent victories Voldemort was still alive and had most of the nation in a stranglehold. The final confrontation was coming, whether they were ready for it or not. That knowledge was what burdened the old man, Chandra was sure of that even without asking.

"So, what's the plan now?" she queried instead.

"Now we raise our walls and wards, so that when the blow comes we will be ready," he explained gesturing towards the large oaken doors "Let us meet with Amelia: she's acting as Minister in interim and directing the defenders."

They went inside as soon as Chandra dismissed the spitfire. The corridors weren't exactly patrolled, more like they crossed ways with a number of students milling about. It was still ok since there was no present threat, but it did paint a grim image if that was the extent of their forces. Voldemort might have lost some of his Death Eaters in the ministry, but he was liable to swiftly rebuild his forces and launch an attack; if enough people rose to his call –willingly or not– the castle would fall without doubt.

The redhead decided to voice her worries to madam Bones and Dumbledore, maybe they had a solution she wasn't privy to. Worst case scenario, she and Liliana could bolster their numbers with some summons. Given enough time they might even be able to get Jace to send someone to help, if he wasn't too busy trying to crack Bolas' masterplan or foiling it.

They also had to do something about the morale: a number of the students they had passed were visibly scared, which was perfectly comprehensible but hardly ideal. Teenagers were already terrible soldiers –the pyromancer herself was a prime example of that, and she was perfectly aware of that– and were even worse if they were too busy jumping at shadows to rest when they could. Probably better to point that out to Bones and Dumbledore too, just in case they were too used in dealing with adults and soldiers to see the problem.

The trio soon reached the command centre, that is to say the small room to the side of the Great Hall where she had been told about the tournament over a year prior. The furniture had been pushed against the walls along everything else save for a large desk and two simple but functional chairs, which were occupied by madam Bones and a tall man with long chestnut hair going grey. He must have been someone important in the ministry, but Chandra had no idea of who he could have been since he didn't wear the red robes of the aurors nor any other insignias.

"Ah, Miss Nalaar Miss Vess, I hope your excursion to Gringotts proved fruitful," said the monocle-wearing woman upon spotting them "Maybe one of you will prove less cagey than Dumbledore about the subject."

"Wait, she doesn't know?" asked Chandra turning towards the ex-headmaster with a surprised look "I though you would have told the head of the lawmages at least!"

"I had to keep the knowledge on a need to know basis to prevent the information from leaking," explained the old man in a tone that was both pained and resolute "Alas, now that we have confirmation that everything went well there's no need to share that particular information anymore."

"We went and destroyed the last of Voldemort's soul anchors so that once killed he won't come back ever again," cut in Liliana draping herself on the sole couch, not far from the fireplace "You will probably have to deal with the goblins after the dark lord wannabe has been dealt with."

"Miss Vess!" protested Dumbledore frowning in obvious disapproval.

"What? If he's not a complete moron he'll soon realize what has happened without having to eavesdrop on this particular conversation: we did raze the bank after all, kind of hard not to notice..." she justified shrugging "And there's no drawbacks in telling our own allies now."

Foreseeably, both revelations turned the convention into a hornet nest. Chandra watched on the proceedings with an exasperated air before deciding that if she was the only one that could defuse the situation then things were far beyond any diplomatic skills she might possess and as such she might as well do nothing at all.

* * *

Voldemort surveyed the devastation of what he had always thought to be an absolutely secure hiding spot for one of his precious horcrux. What he saw were scorchmarks where fires had long since extinguished, burned corpses of his inferi army, and general widespread destruction of the secret sea cave. Really, the fact that his blood ward had been _melted through_ should have been clue enough that his hideaway had been found, and with it Slytherin's medallion.

Just like his family ring and Hufflepuff's cup.

He had yet to check on the armour –for some reason he hadn't been able to use Gryffindor's sword as an horcrux, but the goblin silver armour had been a nice fallback– but he had little doubt he would find it similarly destroyed.

That left only Ravenclaw's diadem and his diary. Considering that the jewel was in Hogwarts, it was safe to consider it gone too. Lucius had better have kept his last horcrux safe.

What really galled him was how had Nalaar –for who else could have caused this kind of damage? It had her signature all over it– discovered his secret and found that many of his Horcrux in that short amount of time? Even taking into account the help she had certainly received from Dumbledore and her companions, in little more than a year the young woman had essentially destroyed the work of a lifetime... It was more than just inconceivable, it was mind boggling!

Well, whatever, the girl was already on his hit list due to the prophecy, it wasn't like he could kill her twice. The planned attack on Hogwarts would solve all his problems in one swoop.

But maybe he should reconsider his next moves in light of those new developments? Maybe he should recreate his horcrux? Was it even possible?

He dearly wished Nagini had survived meeting the pyromancer in the department of mysteries, she would have made an excellent fallback horcrux. Too bad he hadn't thought of that sooner.

First things first: checking the old Wool Orphanage and forcing Lucius to cough up his diary. Those were his priorities now. He could plan the next step once he had at least one of his horcrux safely in his hands.

With a last weary look, he apparated away from the secret sea cave.


	45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45 – No rest for the wicked

Voldemort stared for a moment longer at Lucius' beaten and broken corpse strewn in front of his throne. He had killed the pathetic excuse of a wizard in a bout of rage –completely justified in his opinion– after he had admitted to not having the diary anymore.

The dark lord cared not that it had apparently been the diary itself that had orchestrated the plan that had resulted in its loss –for he wasn't enough of an optimist to believe Dumbledore hadn't destroyed the bloody book– but only that he was now almost certainly without any horcrux.

He was mortal again. He, who had made immortality his own name, could already feel Death's cold fingers closing around his neck.

The dark wizard imperiously stood up and marched into what had been the Minister's private quarters –provided in case an esteemed Minister had to work overtime and almost never used in centuries if not for the occasional nap or fornication– that he had appropriated and started scouring his old notes. They had been covertly recovered from a hidden cache that had miraculously survived Nalaar's fury, a small chest ensconced at Lestrange Manor.

He had to know: could he make even one more horcrux? Could he become immortal again?

* * *

Since Dumbledore had returned to the castle, things had changed in the school, the most notable of which was a far stricter take on where students could go or what they could do.

The Inquisitorial Squad was immediately stripped of its position, its members forced to stay in their dormitories or join the defenders, after a through screening by an auror of course. Be it their ideals, peer pressure, or simple fear of that interrogation, only one student "switched sides", if it could be considered that in Pansy's case. Of course, once word got around that she had always been Liliana's plant nobody was really surprised of her choice.

The members of Chandra's resistance group were offered a similar choice, with the only difference being that most of them went to man the ramparts as sentries. It had been a no brainer for those that did: they had stood up to Umbridge, they weren't about to roll over for someone else, not even for Voldemort. The pyromancer was torn about that: on one hand she was proud her students were raising to the occasion, on the other hand she didn't want them anywhere close to a fight they weren't ready for.

Ron Weasley was punished for his ill-conceived plan, along with all the others that had participated in the attack, but given the circumstances the punishment consisted in longer watches on the walls. They couldn't exactly spare the manpower.

As for the rest of the student body, they simply rolled with the latest change in direction. They were given the same choice as the others, but results were less uniform.

Lessons were obviously suspended, both since all the professors were busy with patrols –except Snape who was still entrenched in the enemy camp, looking for the best moment to flee the scene and get back to Hogwarts– and the fact that lots of students were confined to their dorms via temporary wards.

None amongst the heads of the resistance were actually happy with deploying the students, and none less than madam Bones, Dumbledore, and Chandra –albeit for rather different reasons: the natives were concerned with the students' age, the redhead with their readiness– but Liliana pointed out that having them where they could keep an eye on them was better than having them scurrying around, possibly getting underfoot or in trouble. Also, they were in dire need of people if they wanted to mount a meaningful defence, even considering that the pyromancer had prepared a number of summoning circles ready for use in key locations and that the necromancer had gotten her rodent army back on their putrid legs.

Jace contacted his two peers via telepathy, saying that when the attack came he would try to send help but it all came down to who didn't have their hands tied at the time. He also brought them up to speed on what he had discovered of Bolas' plans, which was sadly very little except that it probably had something to do with all his plants on Ravnica. After all, he certainly had at least two guilds in his proverbial pocket –even if Vraska was actually a double agent– and a suspicious number of others had recently had changes at the top, even if admittedly for some it wasn't such an exceptional event. Yet he didn't see how the dragon's army of eternals could help considering that the city-plane held its fair share of necromancers ready to snatch them away from him. Even worse, Jace hadn't the faintest idea about what Bolas could possibly use the planar anchor recovered on Ixalan for. He feared he was missing a key piece of the plan, but for all his smarts he simply couldn't figure it out.

A short funeral was held for Arthur Weasley in the courtyard. He had been a well beloved man and many of his friends and family were already in the castle. Given the sombre mood of the affair, even Liliana didn't came out with any indelicate comments about raising the man to fight again. She still considered the option, but kept it to herself.

Life soon settled in a new routine, with Dumbledore and Hermione working overtime with their respective phoenixes to bring anyone willing to fight to the castle while everyone else held the fort. Yet, routine was swiftly followed by unease: the constant tension, the worry and the fear dug deep in the hearts of the defenders, threatening to break them long before any attack came. Chandra tried to fight them by tasking some of the more easy-going students with keeping their peers distracted, amused and generally granting a morale boost, but she understood far too well that sooner or later even those measures wouldn't matter.

* * *

Voldemort entrusted what few of his inner circle still remained alive and functional with overseeing the attack on Hogwarts.

He couldn't afford the distraction himself. Too much to do, too little time.

Soul magic was as little explored as a branch of the dark arts can be. Even the unspeakables had done little research on it, for whatever reason. As such, everything he could consult pointed to him being the first to actually tear his soul apart more than once, which in turn made him the foremost expert on the subject of horcrux since Herpo the Foul himself. And while that was a nice stroke to his ego, it was maddening in and on itself.

He decided to attack the problem from a different angle: he had already thorn his own soul six times with no adverse effects he was able to observe, but when he went after the Potters he was defeated by unknown means. Could it have been that his soul had become unstable, in conjunction with whatever protection Lily Potter had dreamed up? Without knowing exactly what the damnable woman had done, it was impossible to actually tell, so he shelved that line of thought.

And yet, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, the possibility that his soul was too unstable to sustain any further tears kept nagging him, an insistent buzz in the back of his skull.

In the end there were only two possible roads in front of him: either he continued his almost complete conquest of Wizarding Britain without the safety net of his horcrux, or he tried creating one more, risking everything in exchange for immortality.

Voldemort had never been a gambling man. The only true risk he had ever taken –not a calculated one, but a true all or nothing deal– had been the creation of his second horcrux, when he had had no guarantee that it wouldn't destroy his soul. For the sake of his dreams, he had taken that gamble and it had paid off, making the most powerful dark wizard ever out of an ambitious nobody.

Did he dare take suck a gamble once again?

With a somewhat impulsive snap decision, Voldemort stood and left the room.

For his dreams, for the work of a lifetime nearly completed, for immortality, he was going to once again seize his destiny and forge it by his own two hands. For he was lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard to walk the Earth, and only he could live forever.

* * *

Voldemort screamed in pain, such a soul rending sound that it was hard to believe it had come from him.

Tearing one's soul apart was hardly painless, yet for the first time it had been too much for the dark wizard and he shortly passed out.

When he came to again, it was to find his ritual room –it actually was one of the unspeakables', but since he controlled the Ministry it was somewhat his own– utterly destroyed. His victim, one of the few prisoners from the attack, was little more than a charred corpse pushed aside by an explosion, what had probably been the result of his failure. For there was no doubt he had failed: the object he had chosen to be his vessel was lying in a twisted, molten heap in the middle of what had been the ritual circle.

Yet, he himself was alive. A bit singed, a whole lot dazed, but still alive.

He was quick to come to two explanations: either there had been a limit to how much abuse a soul could suffer, or someone had discovered a way to prevent him from creating more horcrux. Since the latter sounded doubtful at best, he went for the first.

He stood shakily, bracing against the closest wall.

In the end, he decided, it didn't matter. He knew other ways to extend his life, far beyond a normal wizard's limits. As he made his way to the warded door and back towards his throne room, his mind whirled with plans.

First he had to break the last rebels at Hogwarts, then he could take some time to consolidate his power, maybe research another way to achieve immortality. And then, with nobody in his way, he would take the whole world.

* * *

Chandra wasn't sure if the long, wearing wait had been part of Voldemort's masterplan or just a happy coincidence, but it remained a fact that for two whole weeks they had not seen hair nor hide of the man and his army.

Meanwhile, refugees had kept coming to the caste, hoping to escape the dark wizard's clutches or to join the fight, each one bringing their story, each one adding to the mystique of Voldemort's threat hanging over them.

And as time passed, that larger than life image they had built started pushing down on the inhabitants of the fortified school. People jumped at shadows, doubting each other in case a spy had gotten in.

Weariness, mistrust, fear.

Even her own attempts –helped by the Weasley twins and a cadre of like-minded individuals– at lifting the populace's morale with jokes, small parties and even an impromptu firework show could only delay the spreading of those dark feelings and thoughts.

She herself had to admit to starting getting a bit weary of the wait. She knew perfectly well she was a bit of thrill-seeker, a girl of action, and waiting entrenched behind walls and wards made her feel like a caged animal.

It was like the Chamber all over again: they all needed an out for the tension. Thankfully, a recycled good idea was still a good idea.

Madam Bones organized a number of small expeditions, strikes against Voldemort's forces and sensitive targets, but also covert outings to gather intel, useful resources, or even just provisions and supplies. Anything that sounded useful, really. Of course, being much more dangerous than the sort-of guerrilla tactics they had employed from the Chamber only aurors and a small number of others could actually take part in those, but the general feeling was that something was being done to stop Voldemort.

It was exactly what they had needed to lift the spirits and tide them over for another week. Chandra guessed that tension would have started to rise once again by then if black-clad figures didn't start apparating in plumes of dark smoke in the vale.

The attack had finally come.

**AN: next chapter ****–****of which I own nothing like of the present one****–**** the much anticipated final battle!  
Also, next week will be double chapter!**


	46. Chapter 46

**AN: here we are, the final battle. I won't bother you all with more of my ramblings, let's dive straight in!**

CHAPTER 46 – Fateful end

As such things often go, the final battle at Hogwarts began with two armies facing each other. A stand-off of sorts between the two forces brought to the battlefield.

As soon as the first plumes had been sighted, the alarm had been sounded, rousing those that had been sleeping and warning those that hadn't. Chandra, who had rushed to the closest rampart as soon as the call to arms had sounded, studied the amassed enemy at the gate in the grey light of the cloudy early morning. She didn't need some form of visual enhancement to see that mostly they were humanoids –almost certainly wizards, though she didn't discount werewolves and vampires– but that a dozen of hulking brutes towered among them and that a number of cloaked figures hung in the air above.

Seeing their numbers, the pyromancer was glad they had thought of blocking all the secondary accesses to the school: a pronged attack would have been likely a winning strategy. The giants couldn't have fit in either the covered bridge on the southern side of the chasm next to the school or the tunnel coming up from the rickety old dock, but the wizards could have.

For some endless minutes everything was silent and still, then the wizards under Voldemort's command started casting. A hail of multicoloured spell rained on the wards, easily repelled by both the ancient and the newer defences, but while each spell was too weak to make a breach alone, the sum of them for a long enough time would surely suffice. It was an obvious plan, something even Chandra herself could see despite barely understanding the magic of Earth. It also had the very glaring flaw that it left the attackers motionless to better coordinate the salvos and therefore easy to hit.

_So why isn't anybody firing back?_ She thought after a moment, looking around at her fellow defenders while she crafted one of her flame ribbons _Where's the attack signal?_

After some more seconds where the only sounds were those of the spells impacting the wards, she voiced her doubts to the guy to her left, a tall black man she remembered from the Order meetings.

"Too far," he grunted gesturing at the enemy "Our spells would lose too much power with the wards up, most certainly veering off target. No, better to save our energies for later."

Chandra blinked, then blinked again before facepalming. She let out a heavy sigh and then cleared her voice.

"Ok, welcome to warfare 101," she said loud enough so that everyone in her vicinity could hear her "Every guy down there is working to bring down our defences, so cutting even one of them down gains us some more time behind the wards. If we fill the air with spells then maybe we can incapacitate some of them before they make a breach. So now follow my lead and pass the word around."

That said she conjured a fireball twice the size of a human head and threw it at the enemy army. It flew in a long arc and impacted with a satisfactory big blast –she had created it to be concussive– that scattered some of the attackers. Soon some other spells followed hers, few at first but growing steadily with the moment. Most went indeed wildly off-course, as predicted by the man, but maybe one in eight or so fell in the still too tightly packed enemy ranks, causing panic and distress if not actually taking some of the attackers out of the fight.

Chandra's intervention turned the flow of the battle, which went from an attrition strategy that would have favoured the invaders to a more even exchange of fire. The attackers were also forced to move as they continued to rain punishment on the wards, making it less coordinated and effective.

After some time this went on, the fight shifted again as a single thunderbolt rained down amid the assaulting army, only to be immediately redirected at the wards. The formidable defences blocked the obviously powerful assault, but doing so reached their limit. At first a large crack hung in the air –almost as if the thunderbolt had fragmented reality itself– before it started expanding with a sound not unlike ice shattering and pieces of the wards looking like massive glass shards started falling to the ground while dissolving like an effervescent tablet in water.

Everybody stilled momentary while admiring the admittedly breathtaking spectacle, then the attackers spurred the giant and the shade-like beings ahead. The wizards didn't waste much time following behind them, a small number of them swooping towards the tall windows in plumes of dark smoke.

As a number of silvery animals lifted from the ramparts and started charging the shades –likely those dementors wizards had convinced themselves Liliana could summon– in mid-air, Chandra conjured a deep crimson fireball and threw it at a seemingly random spot in the courtyard. It impacted one of the previously prepared summoning circles, lighting it up in a massive blaze that soon took the vaguest of the humanoid traits –two pseudo-arms and something that could generously be defined a head with two blazing yellow eyes– and moved to intercept the giants on the access bridge.

As jets of water tried extinguishing Chandra's fire elemental –with mixed results, it was still basically a massive, living wildfire– while it battled it out with the foremost giant, a contingent of animated suits of armour started marching out of the open front doors, together with a veritable wave of skeletal rodents and even two of Liliana's spectres on their screeching, shadowy mounts.

Spellfire from both sides resumed, now much more precise thanks to the lessened distance and absence of wards. Chandra summoned a spitfire and went airborne, hoping in part to get into a better position and in part to draw some fire away from the bastions. She also thought that she might spot Voldemort to fry his bald head once and for all.

Black-purple lances flew from the castle's entrance towards some of the bottled giants, spearing them through as if they hadn't even been there and felling them on the spot, indicating that Liliana had entered the fray attended by Hermione and Pansy, who had been tasked solely with shielding the necromancer.

Voldemort's forces finally managed in overcoming the fire elemental, who died with a loud hiss as the last of his flames were extinguished, and proceeded to fight for the courtyard. A couple of giants who had been kept back started throwing huge boulders at the ramparts from behind the enemy lines, causing most of the defenders to focus their fire on those on threat of being crushed.

The ground forces in the courtyard faced the strength of the charging giants, managing to still them as Chandra continued raining streams of magma on the large brutes' heads. The supporting wizards would have likely tried to take her off the sky had they not been tied with repelling undead rats and screeching spectres. The stall didn't last long though, for a massive burst of wind scattered the two spectres before a barrage of those green killer spells took them out, freeing some of the attacking wizards to pelt the animated armours. Chandra was sure it had been Voldemort himself that caused that windblast, yet she realised that she was the only one left who could really free the defenders of the two giants still pestering them. With an annoyed grunt, she detected her spitfire into a swooping pass above the assembled wizards to avoid retaliation. Someone still rose in the air in a plume of black smoke trailing after her.

Meanwhile some of the defenders on the ramparts had to head back inside to stem the assault of the Death Eaters that had broken through the windows. Madam Bones herself led them in a hunt through the twisting corridors. Thankfully they had ordered all the non-combatants to hide in the dormitories where it was safer. Unfortunately, the invaders being Death Eaters meant they were Voldemort's elites, a completely different animal than the riff-raff out in the courtyard.

Still, that same riff-raff was forcing the defenders in the courtyard into a slow retreat towards the castle, despite Liliana having almost single-handedly slain all the remaining giants: the armours still standing simply lacked the range or the numbers to resist the assembled wizards' assault. It didn't help in the least that the necromancer needed far too much time to animate corpses as big as the giants'.

And while the battle was starting to take a turn for the worse for the defenders, Chandra's spitfire was shot down by a green spell from her pursuer, forcing her into a crash landing that stopped her from getting to the last two giants. Voldemort himself landed a short distance away, staring at her with undisguised hatred.

"You destroyed my horcrux, you ruined the work of a lifetime," he hissed, anger obvious in his tone "You killed my sweet Nagini!"

The pyromancer didn't reply verbally but threw a fireball at him before rolling to the side and scampering to her feet. He deflected the attack and retaliated with a smattering of multicoloured silent spells. Chandra kept diving out of the way of Voldemort's barrages and conjuring walls of flames to cut his sight while pestering him with a flurry of small fireballs, all with the express intent of biding her time to the ribbon build even more mana for her to use. She wasn't about to go for any middle measures with him since she wasn't sure how long it took him to plant another of those fire-absorbing runes; also, the longer she kept him busy the more time she gave Dumbledore and Liliana to come help her.

Inside the castle the situation was rapidly deteriorating: those students that had reasons to hate the resistance or to join Voldemort's camp had started attacking their fellows as soon as word of the Death Eaters' breach had reached them. This forced the defenders to split up even more to both cover more ground and keep the students in check, limiting their ability to quickly deal with the invaders.

Meanwhile the courtyard had been lost, prompting Hermione to trigger another of Chandra's summoning circles –all it took was a strong enough fire charm, as the pyromancer had foreseen not being present in person to trigger them all– before the doors were closed in front of the attacking wizards. The fiery giant boar that emerged from the circle couldn't stop the siege alone, but it did cause lots of damage to the attackers with its indiscriminate charges and gave the two witches and one planeswalker enough time to re-seal the entrance.

Seeing the courtyard taken, Dumbledore guided all those that remained on the ramparts back inside, hoping to bring help where it was needed. This in turn freed the two rock-caster giants, who tried to join the siege and avenge their fallen brethren.

The key word being tried, as Chandra crushed the whole flame ribbon, using all its accumulated mana for one of her biggest spells. It wasn't quite the Worldfire in neither scope or power, but the fiery conflagration that engulfed the stretch of land they had been battling on was still powerful enough to reduce the two giants to charred skeletons, to burn the few dementors that had drifted close hoping to snack on whoever lost, and to carve a massive crater in the ground.

* * *

As the destabilised soil soon started to crumble into the nearby ravine –incidentally rendering the access bridge useless– Voldemort apparated onto a nearby hill, sporting tattered clothes and large patches of burned flesh even if nothing life-threatening. He kept his eyes on the still present dust and smoke cloud, but he also took a moment to consider that while he had barely escaped that last explosion he had no doubt that Nalaar had survived. He was even mostly sure he had managed to tag her with a bone-breaking curse in the rib cage but he wouldn't be surprised if she came out of the cloud throwing fireballs and everything. The girl had a penchant for not dying.

He was forced to shift his attention from where he thought the girl was when he heard a thunderous rumble coming from the school. He turned just in time to see his remaining forces in the courtyard being thrown in the air like as many ragdolls by a mix of massive tree roots and tentacles, effectively breaking the siege in the courtyard.

All he had left were his Death Eaters inside the castle and himself, plus a small number of dementors that still floated above the school kept away by the defenders' patroni. It was probably better to retreat and build his forces back. He wasn't arrogant or mad enough to believe that he could lay siege to the castle alone and without his horcrux too.

He spun on his heel, intent on apparating to the Ministry building, but it didn't work. It wasn't the same sensation of an anti-apparation ward, it simply didn't work.

"No running away," came a male voice from behind him "Don't even _think_ about it."

"Urgh, I'm not sure if it's my shoulder that hurts more or your puns, Jace," groaned the pyromancer sounding extremely parched.

Voldemort spun around and came face to face with not only his redheaded nemesis but also a shady-looking individual in a blue hooded cape, with glowing blue tattoos on his cheeks. He looked immensely smug –but more importantly well rested and battle ready– while Chandra looked like some of the survivors of the bombings during the Great War: covered in scrapes and sooth but miraculously still alive. She was holding a hand to her left shoulder, her left arm hanging limp at her side, meaning she had managed to turn in time to avoid his last fatal spell but still got hit by it.

That was all Voldemort could see before a fireball impacted with his sternum, forcing him to take a step back. A mere instant of distraction, not even a second, but it apparently was enough for the caped intruder to summon a number of glowing blue snake-like fishes that swam in the air all around him.

"Tale's end, Tom," said Chandra conjured another head-sized fireball in her free hand "I got your horcrux, now I'm going to get you too."

"How?" demanded the wizard, his eyes jumping wildly from one opponent to the other "I'm the greatest dark lord to ever live! You're just a child! How could you stand up to me?"

He wasn't about to admit he had been defeated. He would twist the tale as much as he could, even if deep inside he knew perfectly well that a routed army plus the amount of injuries he had already received meant his defeat.

"I swore an oath," replied the girl with an expression that was halfway between nostalgic and amused "For everyone's freedom, I will always keep watch."

She threw her fireball at him. Voldemort sneered and raised his wand to cast a shield. If he couldn't apparate out of the way he could still protect himself and retaliate later.

"_Protego maxima_!" he chanted, perfectly willing to expend a little more power if it meant they would need longer to break the shield.

The scorched yew of his wand cracked under the strain, but a pale dome materialised in the air around him. The fireball splashed against it doing little damage, same as the ghostly fishes that had charged him as soon as he had moved.

"_Avada kedavra_!" he thundered pointing his wand at the interloper, pouring his hate and magic through the focus.

The pale wood fissured more, but the deadly curse flew toward its mark.

The pyromancer raised her good arm, palm open towards her enemy, and let out a pale yellow beam of searing heat that impacted Voldemort's shield with all the strength of a battering ram. The barrier started cracking.

The killing curse passed through the caped man as if he hadn't been there. The man just smirked as a number of mirror images faded into existence all around them.

"_Avada kedavra_!" Voldemort snarled again pointing at Chandra instead, sure that she couldn't magically create illusions to hide behind.

The focus in his hand shattered –having channelled far too much magic in too little time while already damaged by the explosion– letting out a rain of emerald green sparks that fell to the ground harmlessly.

Voldemort lowered his gaze to stare at his oldest companion uncomprehendingly, uncaring of the shrapnel that had wounded him or that his shield was failing. He had always had his wand with him, ever since he had visited Olivander at eleven, he simply couldn't fathom its loss. It was unthinkable.

For the first time in more than half a century, Voldemort truly felt powerless, like he had felt as a clueless child in front of Dumbledore. And it scared him, even more than the possibility of dying.

He heard the sound of his barrier shattering and raised his head, just in time for the beam of heat to cut a hole through his chest. It hurt incredibly, but only for the briefest of moments. Then, all he felt, was cold numbness as the world tilted to the side, darkness pressing at the edge of his sight.


	47. Chapter 47

EPILOGUE – Past and future

The war had ended and Hermione sat on the ramparts overlooking the lake and the forest beyond, letting her gaze wander idly on the horizon. Down in the castle the others were tending to the wounded and gathering the fallen; she knew she should have been helping, but she didn't have the willpower to face the toll the war had forced on them, to see who wasn't going to be around the following day, so she sat contemplating the situation from up there. Once Chandra had slain Voldemort, many had thought the Death Eaters would surrender, but they had instead felt like wounded animals backed into a corner. The result were too many useless deaths, which had piled upon the already large death toll from both the Ministry battle and the days in between.

The war had ended and they were left to pick up the pieces. Chandra, Liliana and their friends had left already, off to another plane to fight another war. Hermione was somewhat glad her life would probably see just that one battle, she wasn't sure she could stomach any more. Unfortunately she was sure she was going to be in the thick of things as soon as everything settled down, what with how people had looked up at her for her closeness with Chandra and Liliana. If they couldn't have the Girl-Who-Lived-To-Win, they were going to get the next better thing, even if it was just a bossy sixteen years old bookworm. Sure, professor Dumbledore and Madam Bones were still around, but they weren't the big heroes this time... Not that she was one herself, but good luck in making people see it.

The war had ended and a new day was starting. Well, metaphorically speaking since it was around midday. She just hoped it would be a brighter day for Wizarding Britain. Maybe she should pull a Chandra and disappear in the night, she had heard good things about Beauxbatons... And knowing the history of her home, more or less nothing was going to change. Maybe she should stay and be what the populace wanted, instil change herself.

Hermione sighed.

The war had ended and she was still insecure. Well, she guessed it was normal: she was just an ordinary teenaged witch.

She got up, dusted her jeans, and went back down. Maybe she could actually help someway that didn't involve knowing how many friends she had lost. Maybe she could start working on the future rather than the past.

**AN: and that's it, the end. There won't be a sequel, a prequel, nor anything else. The prequel is the Amonketh storyline, the sequel is War of the Spark, you can read them on the WotC website.  
It has been an incredible journey and I want to sincerely thank all of you out there that bothered with reading this, it makes a writer feel appreciated when their work is read.  
Hopefully you enjoyed it as well. Another huge thank you to all those that commented, there have been moments when reading your words of appreciation and/or encouragement made my day.  
I don't care if you arrived partway through the story or have been with me since day one, I want you all to know that I really appreciate you.  
Little revelation time: the hardest part of writing this fic has been trying to balance things out between planeswalkers and wizards, followed closely by finding the right card to name the chapters after.  
For those of you that are curious about my future plans: I'm cooking another HP crossover, but it should be a while before I'll post it.  
So, ladies and gentlemen, one last time tank you all. It's been a pleasure.  
Lots of love,**

**Lost Umbrella**


End file.
